Then came that night in May when the lions roared more than usual, a balmy night when the Big Dipper dominated Camelopardus, when Cepheus under the Pole Star sat beside Draco. That night all the stars that could shine were on show in a cosmic display not usually seen by man. It was almost two o’clock, Jupiter was in Sagittarius and it was no doubt the unusual luminosity that agitated the lions. They began to roar like never before, as if they had escaped and were howling in excitement at their new-found freedom. Joséphine, who was far from asleep, did not move, attentive to the groans which affected her intimately. The roars, which did not scare her in the least, sent sweet, savage tremors through her, as though she were bewitched by the calls of the wild cats up above. Even though he was no longer there, the doctor could not doubt how the lions were affecting her. A man gets close to a woman when he understands her, making the journey from egoism to comprehension. The ghost of the doctor saw everything about the body of his wife; even in death he stood by her. This woman who moved alone in her bed, with her firm body longing to be touched, her curves visible even in the shadows, her wide hips and her narrow waist; even in death he set her free. He was well aware that a woman like her, a woman so exciting and full of life, would not be satisfied with compliments alone. Yet, the things beyond words he knew she wanted, he did not do to her, even when he was still alive. And if he was prepared to forgive his wife everything, even the solitary love she gave herself up to in the night, never could he have imagined that one day she would find herself dreaming of lions snorting up on the rocks. Even in life, he would not have imagined that one day she would be aroused by the roars which to her spoke of embraces, that her body would long for strong hands to hold her round the waist, the hands of a lion tamer, as greedy as the animals above.