The End of the Affair

The narrator states that “A story has no beginning or end,” but that we “arbitrarily” choose a moment “from which to look back or from which to look ahead.” Despite this, the narrator wonders if he really has chosen the moment from which to begin this story, or if that moment chose him. The narrator also notes that if he had “believed then in a God,” then he might’ve believed that it was God who prompted him to go talk to Henry Miles. The narrator did this even though he hated Henry, and even though Henry would soon start hating the narrator, as well. In fact, the narrator notes that “this is a record of hate far more than of love” and assures the audience that if he writes one good thing about Henry or his wife Sarah then it is proof of his trustworthiness.

The narrator, whose name is revealed to be Bendrix, says that it was strange to see Henry out that night because it was so rainy, and Henry loved to be comfortable. The narrator, on the other hand, prefers discomfort and so had chosen to walk out into the rain to go to a nearby bar for a drink. On his way out of the building he lives in, Bendrix spots Henry standing alone in the rain. Instead of avoiding him and walking by unnoticed, Bendrix calls out to Henry, who affectionately returns the greeting. Bendrix asks about Sarah simply because “it might have seemed odd if [he] hadn’t,” although he also notes that nothing would have pleased him more than to learn that “she was sick, unhappy, dying” because it would “lighten [his] mind.”

Henry tells Bendrix that Sarah is out somewhere, which reminds Bendrix of a time when other people might have asked Henry where Sarah was and only he, Bendrix, would have truly known where she was. Bendrix invites Henry out for a drink and is somewhat surprised when Henry agrees, because they’ve never had a drink together outside of Henry’s home.

Henry notes that it’s been a long time since he or Sarah has seen Bendrix, to which Bendrix replies that the last time they saw each other was in June of 1944, over a year ago. While they’re talking, Bendrix thinks to himself what a fool Henry is for not seeing anything odd in the fact that they haven’t seen each other in over a year even though they live in the same square. Bendrix calls this failure to see anything suspicious “Henry’s blinkers” and he notes that he, Bendrix, “hated his blinkers even when I had benefited from them, knowing that others could benefit too.” Bendrix asks Henry if Sarah is at the movies and Henry says that she isn’t and actually doesn’t go very much anymore. Bendrix says that she used to.

At the bar, Henry and Bendrix each order a rum. While they sit at the table together, Bendrix thinks to himself that he would never even have tried to get to know Henry or Sarah if, in 1939, he hadn’t started writing a book about a civil servant. Bendrix remembers that he first started seeing Sarah to ask her questions about Henry’s lifestyle, and these questions are what led to their “friendship.” Henry was an assistant secretary in the Ministry of Pensions, and eventually Bendrix told Sarah that he was only interested in Henry as a “copy” for a “ridiculous, comic” character in his book. Bendrix notes that this is when Sarah, who was always loyal to Henry, began to hate his book and would cry whenever Bendrix would ask her questions about Henry.

After Bendrix and Henry exchange pleasantries about the past Christmas and Sarah’s health, Henry offers to go get them each another rum and Bendrix runs to the restroom. In the restroom, Bendrix sees some crude graffiti about the landlord’s wife and, when he returns to his seat, tells Henry about it. Henry notes that, “Jealousy’s an awful thing.” Bendrix is confused and asks Henry what he means, so Henry tells him: “When you are miserable, you envy other people’s happiness.” Bendrix is privately taken aback at Henry’s words and states that, by expressing this private surprise, he is writing in a bitter way. Bendrix asserts that, if he could, he would “write with love,” but also that if he could do that then he wouldn’t be himself anymore. 

Bendrix asks Henry if he is miserable and Henry responds that he is “worried.” Bendrix encourages Henry to explain what he means and privately wonders if it’s the rum that’s prompting Henry to open up or if he has some idea of how much Bendrix knows about him due to his relationship with Sarah. Henry tells him that he’s worried about Sarah, but just then a “little hilarious man” runs in and makes a lot of noise. Henry tells Bendrix they should go back to his house to talk some more.

Once home, Henry calls out to see if Sarah is back yet. There is no answer, so Henry invites Bendrix into his study to talk. Bendrix realizes that this is the first time he’ll have been in Henry’s study. Bendrix looks around the house as they walk, noting how unusual it is that there is an absence of any “token of past taste or past sentiment” and that everything looks unused. In his office, Henry offers Bendrix a whisky and Bendrix, noting how red Henry’s eyes are, wonders if Henry is drinking too much and asks him what’s wrong. When Henry answers “Sarah,” Bendrix wonders to himself if this would have scared him just two years ago. He decides that, actually, he would have “welcomed the open fight” because he might have won.

Bendrix asks Henry what exactly it is that he’s worried about and Henry shows him a letter. Bendrix, worried it might be one he wrote to Sarah, takes it and reads it. The letter contains a response to a request for information about a “discreet” private detective. Bendrix tells Henry that he doesn’t understand, so Henry tells him that he had made the request but hasn’t done anything. Henry also implies that he can trust Sarah not to read the letter, which he keeps out in the open, but that there’s something he can’t trust her not to do or be doing. Henry asks if Bendrix thinks he’s a fool and Bendrix tells him that he’s not a fool. He adds that it is possible because “Sarah’s human,” but also assures Henry that he’s not saying anything “against Sarah”; just that there is “nothing foolish in the idea.”

Henry asks Bendrix what he should do and Bendrix tells him to either burn the letter or see the private detective, Mr. Savage. Henry, however, swears he can’t do either thing: burning the letter is impossible and he can’t go to Mr. Savage because it will make him look ridiculous. At this, Bendrix gives in to his “desire to tease” Henry and offers to go see Mr. Savage himself. Henry is surprised but grateful for Bendrix’s offer, but ultimately tells him the idea is too far-fetched and can’t be done. Bendrix tells him that this, like “adultery or theft or running away from the enemy’s fire” can be and is done every day in “modern life.” Henry tells Bendrix that he only needed “a proper talk” and burns the letter, telling Bendrix to forget it.

Just then Bendrix and Henry hear someone come in. Henry says it must be the maid, but Bendrix insists that it’s Sarah they hear. Henry goes to the door and “automatically his face [falls] into absurd lines of gentleness and affection” as he calls to Sarah. Sarah walks over to them and Bendrix, noting that this is “one of the moments of hate,” asks her if she’s been out walking. Sarah says she has been walking and Bendrix observes how bad the weather is, while Henry notes that Sarah is soaking wet and will “catch [her] death of cold.” Bendrix wonders if, “even if [they] had known he spoke truth,” they would have “felt any genuine anxiety for her” strong enough to overpower their “nerves, distrust, and hate.”