Concerto to the Memory of an Angel Read Online Free PDF Page B

not only the truth but also the crime. Were they not committing a crime together?
    Their complicity intoxicated her.
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    After five weeks of confession she realized she had told her story until there was nothing left to tell. She came up with a few more misdeeds she had committed during her two trials, but she knew that she was emptying her last rounds and soon she would have no more ammunition.
    She was afraid the bell might be tolling for her supremacy.
    That Wednesday, the young priest informed his flock that he would be absent the following day and the day after. Just like that! With no further information, and out of the blue! Nor did he divulge anything to Marie.
    What was going on?
    Was he avoiding her because she no longer fed his shocked curiosity? She wasn’t about to go inventing new crimes, now was she! Was she supposed to lie in order to keep him, or turn herself into Scheherazade?
    The long hours without Gabriel seemed unbearable. She was in pain. Here she had bared her soul to the priest: was this all she would get, his silence, his sudden absence? In the end, Gabriel was no better than the others.
    Weary, disgusted, depressed, on Friday evening at seven o’clock she discovered a rash on her ankles. To punish herself for waiting for him, she placed her feet on a stool and scratched her ankles until they bled. The house was creaking with boredom. In the scent of oilcloth that filled her dwelling, she could not focus her attention on anything, neither the rusty horseshoe on the windowsill, nor the postman’s calendar, let alone the newspapers full of classified ads.
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    At eight o’clock, someone rang at her door.
    It was Gabriel.
    She was overjoyed. He may have gone away, but she was the first person he had come to upon his return. She hid her legs, asked him to come in, offered him something to eat or drink. He declined, with a grave expression, and insisted on standing.
    â€œMarie, I have thought a great deal about what you have told me, these terrible revelations of which I am now the mute guardian—a silent guardian, because I shall never betray the secret of the confession. You see, I went away for two days to think. I conferred with my bishop, and with the priest who trained me at the seminary. Without mentioning your name, I described your case to them in order to know how I should behave. I’ve come to a decision. A decision that concerns us both.”
    As solemnly as if he were asking her hand in marriage, he seized her wrists, firmly. She shuddered.
    â€œYou have revealed your sins to God.”
    He squeezed her fingers.
    â€œNow you must confess your sins to mankind.”
    Marie withdrew her hands and stepped back.
    He insisted.
    â€œYes, Marie! You must take responsibility for your crimes. It’s better for justice. Better for the families of the victims. Better for the truth.”
    â€œI don’t give a damn about the truth!”
    â€œNo. The truth is important to you because you have told me the truth.”
    â€œI told you! Only you! No one else!”
    Horrified, she realized that he hadn’t understood her at all. She had not been serving the truth, she had been using the truth! She had only used it so that she could captivate him, charm him. It was not as he thought, she had not been speaking to God but to him and him alone.
    He shook his head.
    â€œI want you to free yourself in the eyes of man, too. Go back to see the judge and tell him everything.”
    â€œConfess? Never! I didn’t fight all those years for that! I can see that you’re not the one who had to go through two trials . . . I won, do you understand? I won!”
    â€œWhat did you win, Marie?”
    â€œMy honor, my reputation.”
    â€œA false honor . . . a false reputation . . . ”
    â€œWhere honor and reputation are concerned, it’s only appearances that matter.”
    â€œAnd yet you did sacrifice your honor and your reputation. You came