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rse　and　weighing　various　clubs　in　their　hands；　trying　to　get　into　the　proper　frame　of　mind　for　a　match。
She　finally　came　near　them。　Of　the　six　men；　three　were　there　to　play　the　same　role　as　she：　they　were　unsettled；　they　seemed　eager　to　ask　all　sorts　of　questions；　but　feared　making　nuisances　of　themselves　and　so　held　their　tongues　and　merely　looked　about　inquisitively。
The　other　three　radiated　condescending　benevolence。　One　of　them　had　a　rifle　in　his　hand。　Spotting　Tereza；　he　waved　at　her　and　said　with　a　smile；　Yes；　this　is　the　place。　
She　gave　a　nod　in　reply；　but　still　felt　extremely　anxious。
The　man　added：　To　avoid　an　error；　this　was　your　choice；　wasn　t　it？
It　would　have　been　easy　to　say；　No；　no！　It　wasn't　my　choice　at　all！　but　she　could　not　imagine　disappointing　Tomas。　What　excuse；　what　apology　could　she　find　for　going　back　home？　And　so　she　said；　Yes；　of　course。　It　was　my　choice。　
The　man　with　the　rifle　continued：　Let　me　explain　why　I　wish　to　know。　The　only　time　we　do　this　is　when　we　are　certain　that　the　people　who　come　to　us　have　chosen　to　die　of　their　own　accord。　We　consider　it　a　service。　
He　gave　her　so　quizzical　a　glance　that　she　had　to　assure　him　once　more：　No；　no；　don't　worry。　It　was　my　choice。　
Would　you　like　to　go　first？　he　asked。
Because　she　wanted　to　put　off　the　execution　as　long　as　she　could；　she　said；　No；　please；　no。　If　it's　at　all　possible；　I'd　like　to　be　last。　
As　you　please；　he　said；　and　went　off　to　the　others。　Neither　of　his　assistants　was　armed；　their　sole　function　was　to　attend　to　the　people　who　were　to　die。　They　took　them　by　the　arms　and　walked　them　across　the　lawn。　The　grassy　surface　proved　quite　an　expanse；　it　ran　as　far　as　the　eye　could　see。　The　people　to　be　executed　were　allowed　to　choose　their　own　trees。　They　paused　at　each　one　and　looked　it　over　carefully；　unable　to　make　up　their　minds。　Two　of　them　eventually　chose　plane　trees；　but　the　third　wandered　on　and　on；　no　tree　apparently　striking　him　as　worthy　of　his　death。　The　assistant　who　held　him　by　the　arm　guided　him　along　gently　and　patiently　until　at　last　the　man　lost　the　courage　to　go　on　and　stopped　at　a　luxuriant　maple。
Then　the　assistants　blindfolded　all　three　men。
And　so　three　men；　their　eyes　blindfolded；　their　heads　turned　to　the　sky；　stood　with　their　backs　against　three　trees　on　the　endless　lawn。
The　man　with　the　rifle　took　aim　and　fired。　There　was　nothing　to　be　heard　but　the　singing　of　birds：　the　rifle　was　equipped　with　a　silencing　device。　There　was　nothing　to　be　seen　but　the　collapse　of　the　man　who　had　been　leaning　against　the　maple。
Without　taking　a　step；　the　man　with　the　rifle　turned　in　a　different　direction；　and　one　of　the　other　men　silently　crumpled。　And　seconds　later　（again　the　man　with　the　rifle　merely　turned　in　place）；　the　third　man　sank　to　the　lawn。
13
One　of　the　assistants　went　up　to　Tereza；　he　was　holding　a　dark…blue　ribbon。
She　realized　he　had　come　to　blindfold　her。　No；　she　said；　shaking　her　head；　I　want　to　watch。　
But　that　was　not　the　real　reason　why　she　refused　to　be　blindfolded。　She　was　not　one　of　those　heroic　types　who　are　determined　to　stare　down　the　firing　squad。　She　simply　wanted　to　postpone　death。　Once　her　eyes　were　covered；　she　would　be　in　death's　antechamber；　from　which　there　was　no　return。
The　man　did　not　force　her；　he　merely　took　her　arm。　But　as　they　walked　across　the　open　lawn；　Tereza　was　unable　to　choose　a　tree。　No　one　forced　her　to　hurry；　but　she　knew　that　in　the　end　she　would　not　escape。　Seeing　a　flowering　chestnut　ahead　of　her；　she　walked　up　and　stopped　in　front　of　it。　She　leaned　her　back　against　its　trunk　and　looked　up。　She　saw　the　leaves　resplendent　in　the　sun；　she　heard　the　sounds　of　the　city；　faint　and　sweet；　like　thousands　of　distant　violins。
The　man　raised　his　rifle。
Tereza　felt　her　courage　slipping　away。　Her　weakness　drove　her　to　despair；　but　she　could　do　nothing　to　counteract　it。　But　it　wasn't　my　choice；　she　said。
He　immediately　lowered　the　barrel　of　his　rifle　and　said　in　a　gentle　voice；　If　it　wasn't　your　choice；　we　can't　do　it。　We　haven't　the　right。　
He　said　it　kindly；　as　if　apologizing　to　Tereza　for　not　being　able　to　shoot　her　if　it　was　not　her　choice。　His　kindness　tore　at　her　heartstrings；　and　she　turned　her　face　to　the　bark　of　the　tree　and　burst　into　tears。
Her　whole　body　racked　with　sobs；　she　embraced　the　tree　as　if　it　were　not　a　tree；　as　if　it　were　her　long…lost　father；　a　grandfather　she　had　never　known；　a　great…grandfather；　a　great…great…grandfather；　a　hoary　old　man　come　to　her　from　the　depths　of　time　to　offer　her　his　face　in　the　form　of　rough　tree　bark。
Then　she　turned　her　head。　The　three　men　were　far　off　in　the　distance　by　then；　wandering　across　the　greensward　like　golfers。　The　one　with　the　rifle　even　held　it　like　a　golf　club。
Walking　down　the　paths　of　Petrin　Hill；　she　could　not　wean　her　thoughts　from　the　man　who　was　supposed　to　shoot　her　but　did　not。　Oh；　how　she　longed　for　him！　Someone　had　to　help　her；　after　all！　Tomas　wouldn't。　Tomas　was　sending　her　to　her　death。　Someone　else　would　have　to　help　her！
The　closer　she　got　to　the　city；　the　more　she　longed　for　the　man　with　the　rifle　and　the　more　she　feared　Tomas。　He　would　never　forgive　her　for　failing　to　keep　her　word。　He　would　never　forgive　her　her　cowardice；　her　betrayal。　She　had　come　to　the　street　where　they　lived；　and　knew　she　would　see　him　in　a　minute　or　two。　She　was　so　afraid　of　seeing　him　that　her　stomach　was　in　knots　and　she　thought　she　was　going　to　be　sick。

15
The　engineer　started　trying　to　lure　her　up　to　his　flat。　She　refused　the　first　two　invitations；　but　accepted　the　third。
After　her　usual　stand…up　lunch　in　the　kitchen；　she　set　off。　It　was　just　before　two。
As　she　approached　his　house；　she　could　feel　her　legs　slowing　down　of　their　own　accord。
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。　
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。　
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。　
And　she　would　turn　her　face　to　the　bark　of　the　tree　and　burst　into　tears。

16
The　building　had　been　constructed　at　the　turn　of　the　century　in　a　workers'　district　of　Prague。　She　entered　a　hall　with　dirty　whitewashed　walls；　climbed　a　flight　of　worn　stone　stairs　with　iron　banisters；　and　turned　to　the　left。　It　was　the　second　door；　no　name；　no　bell。　She　knocked。
He　opened　the　door。
The　entire　flat　consisted　of　a　single　room　with　a　curtain　setting　off　the　first　five　or　six　feet　from　the　rest　and　therefore　forming　a　kind　of　makeshift　anteroom。　It　had　a　table；　a　hot　plate；　and　a　refrigerator。　Stepping　beyond　the　curtain；　she　saw　the　oblong　of　a　window　at　the　end　of　a　long；　narrow　space；　with　books　along　one　side　and　a　daybed　and　armchair　against　the　other。
It's　a　very　simple　place　I　have　here；　said　the　engineer。　I　hope　you　don't　find　it　depressing。　
No；　not　at　all；　said　Tereza；　looking　at　the　wall　covered　with　bookshelves。　He　had　no　desk；　but　hundreds　of　books。　She　liked　seeing　them；　and　the　anxiety　that　had　plagued　her　died　down　somewhat。　From　childhood；　she　had　regarded　books　as　the　emblems　of　a　secret　brotherhood。　A　man　with　this　sort　of　library　couldn't　possibly　hurt　her。
He　asked　her　what　she'd　like　to　drink。　Wine？
No；　no；　no　wine。　Coffee；　if　anything。
He　disappeared　behind　the　curtain；　and　she　went　over　to　the　bookshelves。　One　of　the　books　caught　her　eye　at　once。　It　was　a　translation　of　Sophocles'　Oedipus。　How　odd　to　find　it　here！　Years　ago；　Tomas　had　given　it　to　her；　and　after　she　had　read　it　he　went　on　and　on　about　it。　Then　he　sent　his　reflections　to　a　newspaper；　and　the　article　turned　their　life　upside　down。　But　now；　just　looking　at　the　spine　of　the　book　seemed　to　calm　her。　It　made　her　feel　as　though　Tomas　had　purposely　left　a　trace；　a　message　that　her　presence　here　was　his　doing。　She　took　the　book　off　the　shelf　and　opened　it。　When　the　tall　engineer　came　back　into　the　room；　she　would　ask　him　why　he　had　it；　whether　he　had　read　it；　and　what　he　thought　of　it。　That　would　be　her　ruse　to　turn　the　conversation　away　from　the　hazardous　terrain　of　a　stranger's　flat　to　the　intimate　world　of　Tomas's　thoughts。
Then　she　felt　his　hand　on　her　shoulder。　The　man　took　the　book　out　of　her　hand；　put　it　back　on　the　shelf　without　a　word；　and　led　her　over　to　the　daybed。
Again　she　recalled　the　words　she　had　used　with　the　Petrin　executioner；　and　said　them　aloud：　But　it　wasn't　my　choice！　
She　believed　them　to　be　a　miraculous　formula　that　would　instantly　change　the　situation；　but　in　that　room　the　words　lost　their　magic　power。　I　have　a　feeling　they　even　strengthened　the　man　in　his　resolve：　he　pressed　her　to　himself　and　put　his　hand　on　her　breast。
Oddly　enough；　the　touch　of　his　hand　immediately　erased　what　remained　of　her　anxiety。　For　the　engineer's　hand　referred　to　her　body；　and　she　realized　that　she　（her　soul）　was　not　at　all　involved；　only　her　body；　her　body　alone。　The　body　that　had　betrayed　her　and　that　she　had　sent　out　into　the　world　among　other　bodies。
17
He　undid　the　first　button　on　her　blouse　and　indicated　she　was　to　continue。　She　did　not　comply。　She　had　sent　her　body　out　into　the　world；　and　refused　to　take　any　responsibility　for　it。　She　neither　resisted　nor　assisted　him；　her　soul　thereby　announcing　that　it　did　not　condone　what　was　happening　but　had　decided　to　remain　neutral。
She　was　nearly　immobile　while　he　undressed　her。　When　he　kissed　her；　her　lips　failed　to　react。　But　suddenly　she　felt　her　groin　becoming　moist；　and　she　was　afraid。
The　excitement　she　felt　was　all　the　greater　because　she　was　excited　against　her　will。　In　other　words；　her　soul　did　condone　the　proceedings；　a