They stayed in their room throughout the rest of the day. They sorted out some papers, changed clothes. Then went to dinner at the hotel restaurant. He found his usual joy. He joked with the waiter. Switching between Spanish and English. They ate admirably well there. It seemed like forever since they had enjoyed themselves this much. Music emanated from the adjoining living room. The hotel owner, charming and very charismatic, offered to make Effie dance. She, falsely embarrassed, refused at first. Then, encouraged by Toan, she let herself be carried away by the rhythm of the music and the obvious beauty of the dancer. He watched her having fun, he clapped his hands, carried away by the crowd and the intoxication of the evening.

Soon, although caught up in the dancers, he felt a tension seize him in the back of his neck, his head turned away from the dance floor and came up against a silhouette that was parading along the windows of the hotel, he recognized first the dress, red, flowing, then the slender silhouette of the woman from the bar, her hair sliding down her waist and her skin partially hidden by the night. No doubt attracted in turn by the noise and the laughter, the figure turned its gaze towards the interior of the room. He discovered the most beautiful look he had seen to date. Cat's eyes, blackened by makeup and which made his look terrible and fascinating, dangerous. 

The woman turned her eyes a little more and fell on him, who was looking at her without being able to look away. She was first surprised by this man she didn't know, then by the intensity of his look he gave her. They held their gaze for a few moments but very quickly, he felt at fault, and looked away, with difficulty, directing his eyes to the ground, his cheeks flushed. He tried to calm his racing heart. His wife was laughing loudly in the distance, she called him to show him the latest dance steps she had just learned, he then looked up in her direction and waved at her. But very quickly, he only wanted to look at the woman with the cat's eyes again and despite his head begging him not to give in, his gaze escaped him and he looked for the figure again. His blurred, confused gaze searched for her again and again, in vain. She had disappeared. He gulped down the glass in front of him and welcomed his wife who threw herself into his arms, as this no longer happened. Surprised, he took advantage of this moment and welcomed this moment, which made him smile tenderly. 

He could no longer think, yet he forced himself to return to Effie. Effie who touched him, Effie who wanted to make contact with him. Effie who had just stroked his face. Toan felt confused, touched, surprised by all his gestures. He took her hand. Gently, she allowed herself to be done, almost shyly. She seemed so much calmer in these leagues. The whole evening passed with the same intensity. He had no idea of the time, intoxicated by alcohol and joy, he let himself be guided by Effie towards their room. She took his hand as she went up the stairs and slid her fingers down his chest. They had kissed at the top of the stairs and it came back to him like such a distant memory. They had talked candidly while returning to the room, she had lay down beside him serenely, without expecting anything more. His hand placed on his. Toan looked at her. Her beauty seemed so sweet again. She fell asleep in one breath, a smile on her lips. Toan, still drunk, observed him for a few more moments. He was happy to see her so sweet and tender towards him. His breathing was calm, soothed and for a time he felt serene next to her. He fixed a small strand of hair that had slipped down her cheek. Then he lay down in turn, put his cushion back in place and slipped his arms behind his head. He wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep too.

However, despite the pleasant evening they had just spent and the unexpected sweetness that Effie had given him, he was unable to fall asleep. And the more he struggled to fall asleep, the more he felt an uneasiness running through him. A small lump began to form at the back of his throat, preventing him from breathing while lying down. He felt a deep feeling of anguish rising within him that took his breath away. He hurriedly sat down on the bed. Got rid of his jacket, anything that could prevent him from breathing. He tried to regain his composure. His stomach was harder than a stone. He grew exasperated with his nervousness. He took her pulse. He was rarely so agitated. He took a deep breath of air, breathed as calmly as possible, slipped his head between his legs, then after a few minutes, managed to come down with pressure. It took him a good twenty minutes before he regained his usual calm. He exhaled deeply one last time, considering he was calm enough to lie down again.

He looked up above him. The fan on the ceiling obsessed him, he let himself wander. His thoughts wandered. His eyes grew heavy. He gave in and closed his eyelids. He remembered his arrival in Tarah, the ocher colors of the city, the soft and heady heat, the hotel and the goodwill that emanated from it, the restaurant and the dance floor, the joy and happiness he felt, his happy wife . Then in the course of his thoughts, he saw the man emerge from the bar, hugging the woman again. The woman in the red dress. The cat-eyed woman. Her golden body. Their embrace. Had he ever embraced a woman with such ardor? Had he ever wanted a woman like that? He could now clearly see their almost animal silhouettes again, that deep look they had exchanged. Had he ever wanted a woman like that? He opened his eyes hastily, he was sweating, he felt his breathing ragged, he was afraid. He was breathing too fast, the lump in his throat was preventing him from breathing. He curled in on himself, begging for it to pass, begging to fall asleep. Begging to not think about them anymore.