Chapter 44 Section 43

"We are already at the bottom of the sea," said the elegant lady.Her voice betrayed her fear and excitement. "In hell," Chantal added.She believed that Lyra liked the lady more childishly, more surprised, more frightened.She felt now that she had become his diabolical assistant.She liked the idea of ​​bringing this refined, prim lady to his bed.The place where her imagination takes place is not in some luxurious hotel in London, but in a pulpit surrounded by howling flames, smoke, and demons. Now, nothing could be seen out of the window, the train was going through the tunnel.She felt she was moving away from her husband's sister, from Jean-Marc, from scrutiny, from espionage, from her life, from the life she held on to and worried about. The words "out of sight" popped into her head, and she was surprised to find that the journey to near-disappearance was not so melancholy.It is soft and joyous, backed by her magic rose.

"We're going deeper and deeper," said the lady anxiously. "Go where the truth is," said Chantal. "Go there," Laila added, "where the answer to your question: Why do we live? What is the nature of life?" He stared at the lady. "The essence of life is reproductive life: it is childbirth, and intercourse before it; and before it, seduction, which is kissing, long hair blowing in the wind, silk underwear, brassieres, and anything Something that arouses people's sexual desire. It's like good food - if it's not cooked well, it becomes an overdone thing that no one wants to taste anymore, but this food is what everyone buys - —Besides food, there is excretion. Because you know, my dear lady, my beautiful and lovely lady, you know, touting toilet paper, how big a place diapers are in our profession. Toilet paper, diapers , detergent, food, this is an important human cycle. Our mission is not only to discover it, catch it, plan it, but also make it beautiful and make it sing. Thanks to our propaganda, the The market is very good. This is a good example. My dear. Anxious lady, I advise you to give this matter serious consideration."

"But there are ruins, ruins!" said the lady, her voice trembling with grief like that of a raped woman. "It's just ruins with makeup! We put makeup on the ruins!" "Yes, exactly," Lyra said.In that "very precise" Chantal heard the pleasure he took in the grief of this elegant lady. "But where is the grandeur of life? Who are we if we declare that food, sex, and toilet paper are out of the question? If that's all we can do, then what are we supposed to be proud of in ourselves ? Freedom exists, as you tell us?" Chantal looked at this lady and thought, Here is an ideal victim of lust.She imagined people stripping her naked, chaining her old, refined body, and forcing her to state her childish thoughts in mourning.In front of her, they were having sex, exposing themselves.

Lyra interrupted Chantal's fantasy: "Freedom? When you live outside your ruins, you can be happy or unhappy. This choice of yours constitutes your freedom. You have this freedom to put Melt yourself into the melting pot of most people with feelings of pain or pleasure." Chantal felt a smile form on her face.She thought carefully about what Laila had said: that our only freedom is to choose between pain and pleasure.Since all this inconsequence is our lot, we should not suffer from it, but learn to enjoy it.She watched Laila's cold, blunt face exuding counterintuitive, charismatic intelligence, and she watched him with admiration but without desire.He said to himself (as if she had completely cleared the illusion just now); he had long ago turned all his masculine energy into his powerful, logical force, into the authority he had in his work force.She imagined Chantal discreetly disappearing into a telephone booth as they got out of the car, confessing all his mistakes to them, while Laila continued to scare the lovely lady with his words.