Chapter 50 Section 49

The old man appeared in front of Chantal with another chair in his hand: "Where do you want to go?" She was taken aback.At this moment of extreme fear, another strong heat wave was generated deep inside her body.It filled her abdominal cavity, her chest cavity, and immediately spread to her face; she was almost naked, so the redness was evident on her body.The man's gaze on her body made her feel every part of her being on fire.She involuntarily put her hand over her chest, as if to cover it up.Inside her, the fire quickly consumed every ounce of courage and defiance in her.Suddenly, she felt exhausted, she felt weak.

He put his arms around her, led her to her chair, and put his own in front of her.They sat in the middle of such an empty room, facing each other and leaning against each other. A chilly breeze enveloped Chantal's sweaty body.Trembling, she asked in a weak, almost pleading voice, "Can I get out of here?" "Why don't you want to stay here with me, Anne?" he asked reproachfully. "Annie?" She was so terrified that her whole body was cold: "Why do you call me Annie?" "Isn't that your name?" "I'm not Annie!" "But I always thought your name was Anne!"

There were a few more hammering sounds from the next room.He turned his head in that direction, as if hesitating to stop them.She used that moment to try to figure it all out: she was naked, but they were going to strip herself!Strip her of her destiny.They gave her a new name and abandoned her among strangers who she couldn't even explain who she was. She no longer had any hope of leaving here.The doors were nailed shut.She must obediently start over.Her name is the first to begin.The first thing she has to do, as a necessary minimum, is to have this person call her by her name, by her real name.It was the first thing she asked him to do, the first thing she ordered him to do.But soon she found that somehow her name seemed to be blocked in her mind; she couldn't remember it.

It made her panic, but she knew that she had bet her fate on the table.To protect herself, to fight, she must keep her head clear at any cost.She concentrated desperately, tried to remember: she had three Christian names, yes, three, and she only used one of them, and that was all she knew.But what are those three names?Which one is she using?God, she must have heard it called a thousand times! Memories of the man who loved her came back to her mind.If he was here, he would call her by her first name.Perhaps, if she could recall his face, she might be able to imagine the shape of that mouth when it called her name.That seemed like a good clue: her name came to mind through that person.She tried to imagine him.Once again, she saw the struggling figure in the crowd.The image is pale and fleeting.She did her best to catch it, grab it, dig into it, dig it out of the past: where did he come from, that man?How could he be in that crowd?Why is he struggling?

She struggled to hold on to that memory.A large garden appeared, a country house.In the crowd, she made out a small man, stunted.She recalled that she once had a child with him.A child she knew nothing about except that he was dead... "What are you thinking, Annie?" She pointed her head and looked at the old man sitting in front of her who was also watching her. "My baby died," she said.The memory was too faint; that was why she said it aloud; she wanted to make it more real in this way; she wanted to catch it in this way, as if A part of life that slips away. He leaned towards her, took her by the hand, and said in a quiet voice full of encouragement, "Annie, forget about your child, forget about his death, and think about life!" waving her hands, as if to prove something vital: "Live! Live! Anne! Live!"

That smile, that gesture filled her with terror.She stood up, trembling, her voice trembling as well: "What is life? What do you call production?" The question she posed after thinking about it brought up another: What if it was death?What if that is the case? She pushed the chair away.The chair rolled away and hit the wall.She wanted to shout, but didn't know what to shout.A long, indistinct "ah..." sound came from her mouth.