'Now, it is my turn,' she said, helping him off with his coat. 'I must tell you the source of my adoration for you.'

Berenice did so with deliberate slowness, undressing him at intervals, heightening their mutual pleasure by delaying its release until they both reached a point of explosion. Daniel could wait no longer. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed and placed her gently down beneath its richly embroidered canopy. No more words were needed. Their writhing bodies continued the dialogue in a much more expressive language. Berenice surrendered herself completely and he responded with characteristic vigour, kissing her, caressing her and filling her with the urgency of his love. She matched his ardour at every stage, letting out a cry of ecstasy when she reached the peak of her pleasure and taking him into Elysium with her. They lay panting happily in each other's arms.

'Your husband is stupid,' he said at length.

'Stupid?'

'How could any man spurn such joy?'

'Armand has not spurned it,' she said coldly. 'He is probably sharing the same joy with his mistress at this very moment. I am a wife in title only. My husband sees me as no more than an attractive piece of furniture.'

'Then he is blind as well as stupid.'

'It was so different when we were first married.'

'Were you happy then?'

'I was treated with respect.'

Berenice omitted to mention that she had been the mistress of Armand Salignac before becoming his wife after the untimely death of her predecessor. The extravagant promises with which she had been showered beforehand wilted under the tedium of domestic life. As his lover, she had been mysterious, desirable and only infrequently available. As a wife, she was there all the time, diminished in every way by sheer familiarity. Her mystery had soon vanished.

'I should never have married a soldier,' she sighed.