‘So you wanted to destroy the idea of her as an individual. That was what you couldn’t bear.’

‘That power, yes. It meant forgoing sentimental memories, but that loss seemed worth it if it rid me of the pain. Before I go on, Fräulein, I expect you know from your reading the sort of things that people do in these circumstances.’

‘Do you mean sex? I’ve read Krafft-Ebing. He’s encyclopedic, goodness knows, though to be honest, I learned more from a book called The Memoirs of Josefine … Somebody, I forget, in which a girl becomes a prostitute because she enjoys it all so much. Everything that men and women do to one another was described in that book with a sort of childish glee. And of course my patients here have told me things. So it’s all right. You don’t need to worry.’

‘Thank you,’ said Anton. ‘It seems odd to me now, portraying myself as this nocturnal creature. I’m not really like that. When I compare it to my first time with Delphine. I was innocent and could hardly control myself. That’s much more what I’m really like. But my innocence was taken from me when Delphine vanished. I blamed myself.’

‘Why?’

‘I was in Paris when the war broke out. I stayed on to finish some work. If I’d hurried home I might have rescued her. I lingered in pursuit of my career.’

‘But surely it would have been impossible to get a train back in those first few days.’

‘I could have tried harder. Anyway, after the war I had to find a way of living. Some peace of mind. So I prescribed myself these night-time visits.’

‘And did the prescription work?’

‘In the long run … Yes, I think it did. Surprisingly.’

‘Surprisingly?’

‘Because I was just guessing. That it might be a cure. There was no guidebook. Sometimes making love to a stranger was difficult. It enhanced my loneliness. At other times their generosity to someone they had never met was thrilling. There was one who kissed me in almost the same way as Delphine, there was another who was different, but in some small detail … even lovelier.’

‘Was it all … carnal?’

‘It was. We were brought up believing that the physical is low and that the emotional or the spiritual is elevated. But I discovered in those many nights that they’re not opposites.’

‘It’s what my father used to tell us,’ said Martha. ‘To distrust simple oppositions. The mind is part of the brain, which is a large organ composed mostly of fat. A thought has an existence as physical as a house. The fact that you can’t see something doesn’t make it any less real or less important. And “psychosomatic” doesn’t mean fake. It means doubly real, because it describes an event that has occurred in both mind and body.’

‘I see.’

‘He was in this very chair when he said that.’

‘I wish I’d met him.’

‘You would have liked him, I think. But we’ve digressed. I’m sorry. Tell me what went on during these visits of yours.’