He sat back. It was like something materializing out of a fog. It was there for him to see, but he couldn’t make the proper connections to identify it. He made them, remembered, and it was as if the room moved. It made him physically dizzy. She did not notice at first, then she did and closed her eyes. He heard the breath run out of him in a rush. He didn’t know what it was supposed to signify—outrage, indignation. It hurt her and he was sorry. He didn’t understand where it had come from, perhaps the breaking of the last unhappy illusion. He felt helpless, as if desperately ill. His skin prickled, his stomach contracted and doubled up.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I don’t know what to say, Karen.” His voice had broken; what he had said had been hardly louder than a whisper.

“Just listen to me, that’s all. I won’t say anything if you decide you’ve had enough.”

He wasn’t sure that she wasn’t trying to do something to herself. He didn’t think he could make that clear; she would think that he was questioning her motives for his own sake. He saw that there was nothing for him to risk and she had already surrendered every advantage over him. He shook his head, then he said, “You keep going.”

“With you I tried to pick up men. With him I succeeded. You would think that after the first time I would have turned myself in at a hospital. I didn’t, I only thought of it. It happened four times. I tried to tell you of the thrill in it, the sick, delicious thrill. He never found out, fortunately for him. I told him I was leaving Port Smith for a fresh start but I didn’t tell him why I needed it. I didn’t owe him anything. He took his chances.”

“So did I.”

“No, no. Listen, Joe, there are a few things you don’t have straight—lies I told you. I told you lies about what happened after Steffie was born, that I pretended. That’s true, as far as it went. Most of the time I did pretend, but not always, as I wanted you to believe. There were times when I wasn’t faking, usually if you caught me when we were just waking up. I had orgasms then and other times. I had no trouble all during Christmas, 1942. You probably don’t even remember. And the night you came home from England the first time. In the railroad station, when I saw you, before we even got near each other, it happened a little.”

“Then you didn’t have trouble with Palmer, as you said.”

“No.”

“Why did you lie?”