338
PARTISAN REVIEW
At the time of wntmg, that is, on the twenty-second day of
February of the year 1944, in the midst of the gloom of winter and
of war, Marie Jannick, who will soon be twenty-five, still performs
her perambulations on the Boulevard de Clichy. In the evening, dur–
ing the blackout, people sauntering down the street between the
Place Pigalle and the rue des Martyrs are startled at the sight of a
circle of light, a kind of Saturn's ring, floating in and out of view.
It
is Duperrier, his forehead encircled by the glorious halo, which he
does not even try to conceal from the curiosity of strangers; Duper–
rier, burdened with the weight of the seven mortal sins, his shame
spent, keeping tab of Marie J annick's labors, reviving her waning
ardor with a kick, or waiting for her at a hotel door to count out the
price of an embrace by the light of the halo. But now and then, from
the depths of his degradation and defilement, making its way through
the dark night of his conscience, a whisper rises to his lips in grate–
ful thanks to God for the absolute gratuitousness of His favors.
(Translated by Frances A. Lippman)
