"He went back to my room with me . . . I was seated at the head of the bed, legs folded under the covers. I was happy about being alone with the man I loved. And I had a very precise plan. I took his head in my hands and I kissed him on the lips. I put my arms around his neck . . . He held me tight, the door still open behind him. Then he removed my arms. He fled to his room. I stayed there for a moment all alone, my heart beating — trembling and dumbfounded. I knew that I'd won. The flight was an admission of it. I grabbed the telephone and called his room to tell him: 'If you don’t come back here immediately, I'm going to knock on your door.' But there was no answer. It was he who called me several minutes later from the lobby of the hotel, to ask if I was all right. And then he told me: 'If you really want to, I'll be the first.' And I answered him: 'You'll be the first. And the only.'"