As she approached his house, she could feel her legs slowing down of their own accord.

After her usual stand-up lunch in the kitchen, she set off. It was just before two.

The engineer started trying to lure her up to his flat. She refused the first two invitations, but accepted the third.

But then it occurred to her that she was actually being sent to him by Tomas.

Hadn't he told her time and again that love and sexuality had nothing in common?

Well, she was merely testing his words, confirming them. She could almost hear him say, I understand you. I know what you want. I've taken care of everything. You'll see when you get up there.

Whereupon the man would lower the barrel of his rifle and say in a gentle voice, If it wasn't your choice, I can't do it. I haven't the right.

Yes, all she was doing was following Tomas's commands.

She wouldn't stay long; long enough for a cup of coffee; long enough to feel what it was like to reach the very border of infidelity. She would push her body up to the border, let it stand there for a moment as at the stake, and then, when the engineer tried to put his arms around her, she would say, as she said to the man with the rifle on Petrin Hill, It wasn't my choice.

And she would turn her face to the bark of the tree and burst into tears.