A Severed Head

'I've spent all my splendour.'

'Be rational, my dearest Martin, my child,' said Antonia. 'And, oh darling, don't look like that. After all, this situation has existed for a long time. It isn't as if I'd only just thought of it.'

'Well, I haven't known about it for a long time,' I said. 'How long in fact has it existed?'

'Oh, always,' said Antonia. 'I don't mean that we always met very often. That varied. But the situation existed.'

'Always? You mean ever since we got married?'

'Really since before we got married. I fell in love with Alexander practically as soon as I met him. Only I didn't start to believe in my love until it was too late. You remember you wouldn't let me meet Alexander until after our engagement was a

'You mean our marriage never really existed at all?'

'Of course it existed, darling. I loved you both. I love you both.'

'I don't think you understand that word,' I said.

'You hurt me terribly,' said Antonia. We looked at each other. Her face had a hard dignity and she withstood my gaze. She had certainly, since the last occasion, travelled. She still looked like an actress. But a great actress.

I walked away to the window and looked out at the magnolia tree. The weak sun revealed the moss upon its old trunk. It looked dead.

'Why didn't you tell me?' I said.

'As I say, I thought you knew. I thought you preferred it all being gentle and inexplicit.'

'Well, why are you making it all nasty and explicit now?'

'Anderson woke me up,' said Antonia. 'He made me in some ways more absolute. After that it was impossible to go on in quite this way. I was in love with Anderson, I was terribly carried away by him. I couldn't help myself. It was both wonderful and terrible. I'd never felt the earth give way under me quite like that. Of course it nearly killed Alexander. He saw it coming from miles off – and I was practically afraid for his reason. He suffered far more than you did.'