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t no transgression。 The stare she had just fixed on him fell outside their rules； it had nothing in common with the looks and gestures that usually preceded their lovemaking。 It was neither provocative nor flirtatious； simply interrogative。 The problem was； Franz had not the slightest notion what it was asking。
Next she stepped out of her skirt and； taking Franz by the hand； turned him in the direction of a large mirror propped against the wall。 Without letting go of his hand； she looked into the mirror with the same long questioning stare； training it first on herself； then on him。
Near the mirror stood a wig stand with an old black bowler hat on it。 She bent over； picked up the hat； and put it on her head。 The image in the mirror was instantaneously transformed： suddenly it was a woman in her undergarments； a beautiful； distant； indifferent woman with a terribly out…of…place bowler hat on her head； holding the hand of a man in a gray suit and a tie。
Again he had to smile at how poorly he understood his mistress。 When she took her clothes off； it wasn't so much erotic provocation as an odd little caper； a happening a deux。 His smile beamed understanding and consent。
He waited for his mistress to respond in kind； but she did not。 Without letting go of his hand； she stood staring into the mirror； first at herself； then at him。
The time for the happening had come and gone。 Franz was beginning to feel that the caper （which； in and of itself； he was happy to think of as charming） had dragged on too long。 So he gently took the brim of the bowler hat between two fingers； lifted it off Sabina's head with a smile； and laid it back on the wig stand。 It was as though he were erasing the mustache a naughty child had drawn on a picture of the Virgin Mary。
For several more seconds she remained motionless； staring at herself in the mirror。 Then Franz covered her with tender kisses and asked her once more to go with him in ten days to Palermo。 This time she said yes unquestioningly； and he left。
He was in an excellent mood again。 Geneva； which he had cursed all his life as the metropolis of boredom； now seemed beautiful and full of adventure。 Outside in the street； he looked back up at the studio's broad window。 It was late spring and hot。 All the windows were shaded with striped awnings。 Franz walked to the park。 At its far end； the golden cupolas of the Orthodox church rose up like two gilded cannonballs kept from imminent collapse and suspended in the air by some invisible Power。 Everything was beautiful。 Then he went down to the embankment and took the public transport boat to the north bank of the lake； where he lived。
2
Sabina was now by herself。 She went back to the mirror； still in her underwear。 She put the bowler hat back on her head and had a long look at herself。 She was amazed at the number of years she had spent pursuing one lost moment。
Once； during a visit to her studio many years before； the bowler hat had caught Tomas's fancy。 He had set it on his head and looked at himself in the large mirror which； as in the Geneva studio； leaned against the wall。 He wanted to see what he would have looked like as a nineteenth…century mayor。 When Sabina started undressing； he put the hat on her head。 There they stood in front of the mirror （they always stood in front of the mirror while she undressed）； watching themselves。 She stripped to her underwear； but still had the hat on her head。 And all at once she realized they were both excited by what they saw in the mirror。
What could have excited them so？ A moment before； the hat on her head had seemed nothing but a joke。 Was excitement really a mere step away from laughter？
Yes。 When they looked at each other in the mirror that time； all she saw for the first few seconds was a comic situation。 But suddenly the comic became veiled by excitement： the bowler hat no longer signified a joke； it signified violence； violence against Sabina； against her dignity as a woman。 She saw her bare legs and thin panties with her pubic triangle showing through。 The lingerie enhanced the charm of her femininity； while the hard masculine hat denied it； violated and ridiculed it。 The fact that Tomas stood beside her fully dressed meant that the essence of what they both saw was far from good clean fun （if it had been fun he was after； he； too； would have had to strip and don a bowler hat）； it was humiliation。 But instead of spurning it； she proudly； provocatively played it for all it was worth； as if submitting of her own will to public rape； and suddenly； unable to wait any longer； she pulled Tomas down to the floor。 The bowler hat rolled under the table； and they began thrashing about on the rug at the foot of the mirror。
But let us return to the bowler hat：
First； it was a vague reminder of a forgotten grandfather； the mayor of a small Bohemian town during the nineteenth century。
Second； it was a memento of her father。 After the funeral her brother appropriated all their parents' property； and she； refusing out of sovereign contempt to fight for her rights； announced sarcastically that she was taking the bowler hat as her sole inheritance。
Third； it was a prop for her love games with Tomas。
Fourth； it was a sign of her originality； which she consciously cultivated。 She could not take much with her when she emigrated； and taking this bulky； impractical thing meant giving UP other； more practical ones。
Fifth； now that she was abroad； the hat was a sentimental object。 When she went to visit Tomas in Zurich； she took it along and had it on her head when he opened the hotel…room door。 But then something she had not reckoned with happened： the hat； no longer jaunty or sexy； turned into a monument to time past。 They were both touched。 They made love as they never had before。 This was no occasion for obscene games。 For this meeting was not a continuation of their erotic rendezvous； each of which had been an opportunity to think up some new little vice； it was a recapitulation of time； a hymn to their common past； a sentimental summary of an unsentimental story that was disappearing in the distance。
The bowler hat was a motif in the musical composition that was Sabina's life。 It returned again and again； each time with a different meaning； and all the meanings flowed through the bowler hat like water through a riverbed。 I might call it Heraclitus' （ You can't step twice into the same river ） riverbed： the bowler hat was a bed through which each time Sabina saw another river flow； another semantic river： each time the same object would give rise to a new meaning； though all former meanings would resonate （like an echo； like a parade of echoes） together with the new one。 Each new experience would resound； each time enriching the harmony。 The reason why Tomas and Sabina were touched by the sight of the bowler hat in a Zurich hotel and made love almost in tears was that its black presence was not merely a reminder of their love games but also a memento of Sabina's father and of her grandfather； who lived in a century without airplanes and cars。
Now； perhaps； we are in a better position to understand the abyss separating Sabina and Franz： he listened eagerly to the story of her life and she was equally eag