When my partner held me in his arms and held me to his chest, I felt a funny sensation that was rather like having butterflies in the stomach, but which I didn’t find quite so easy to forget. When I got back home, I would throw myself in the leather arm chair, overpowered by a curious languor that I couldn’t put a name to and that made me want to burst into tears. On the pretext that I had too much work, I gave up going to the dancing class.
