‘What’s got into me? But all the same, I’m so very alone …’

She walked away, sat down on the window ledge and absent-mindedly watched the snow as it fell.

‘The way he looks at her!’ she thought, tortured by a kind of suffering she’d never felt before. ‘The way he takes his sons’ hands! He loves his children so much. Oh, look how much he cares about me now, me whom he kissed and caressed so tenderly just five minutes ago. I’m so glad I didn’t say “I love you”. But do I love him? I don’t know. I’m in pain, it’s not fair, I wasn’t meant to suffer like this, I’m too young …’

She looked at her mother and Max with hatred.

‘It’s because of them …’ She turned towards Max. ‘I hate him, I could kill him,’ she thought, but then, as the pathetic childish curses rose to her lips, she had an idea.

‘How stupid I am! Vengeance is within my grasp. I knew how to get Fred Reuss when all the women were after him. Max is just a man. If I wanted to … Oh, my God, don’t tempt me. But … she deserves it. My poor Mademoiselle Rose. How they made her suffer. Forgive them? Why? Why should I? Yes, I know. God said: “Vengeance is mine …” Well, too bad. I’m not a saint; I can’t forgive her. Wait, just you wait and you’ll see. I’ll make you cry the way you made me cry. You never taught me goodness, forgiveness. It’s very simple: you never taught me anything but to be afraid of you and how to behave at mealtimes. Everything is hateful, I’m suffering, the world is evil. Wait, just you wait, you old …!’

The lamp flickered one last time and went out. The men swore and waved their lit cigarettes about.

‘Well! There’s not a drop of petrol, of course, and there’s no one in the kitchen …’

‘I know where the candles are,’ said Hélène.

She found two candles; one was placed among the men playing cards and the other on the piano, the only light in the shabby little room that Hélène was never to see again.

The children fell asleep. Every now and again one of the men said, ‘Really, we’d be better off going to bed to get some rest. It’s ridiculous sitting here. What good are we doing?’

But the women said over and over again, nervously, ‘Let’s stay together, we feel better when we’re all together …’

It was nearly midnight when they heard the first gunshots. The men turned white and dropped their cards. Sometimes the shooting came closer, then sounded far away.

‘Put out the lights,’ someone cried anxiously.

They rushed to the candles and blew them out. In the darkness, Hélène could hear the sound of panicked breathlessness and murmurs of ‘My God, my God, dear Lord God …’

Hélène laughed to herself; she liked the sound of the gunfire; a wild exhilaration made her shudder and quiver with joy.

‘They’re so afraid. They’re so upset, all of them! I’m not afraid.