His Conjugal Inferno.
that, and the day after that. It lasted a month,
two, three, � it was continued five or six years.
You could stand a little of it, but when it became
the rule, it was horrible. What could be done?
Tradespeople would always send things as long
as he (the hypocritical sufferer) lived in a hand-
some house � you couldn�t go to every one of them.
with caution against giving your wife credit � for I
had suggested this. �Hire rooms,� I said, �go
to a hotel or boarding-house; provide all things
handsome and necessary, give a weekly allowance
and insist on having things on a ready money basis;
if she would get into debt allow no false shame
or pseudo-generosity to induce you to become a
partner to or tolerate it.� But if she locked
the street-door to keep you at home? hid your
shoes and hat? tried to cut you off from your
friends, everybody? if, when, stung to exaspe-
ration, you went off for a day or so, she sent
messengers all over the town after you? you
couldn�t break out of your own house like a bur-
glar or make your exit by the window. Still
I counselled the having and rendering of justice.
I could not, of course, tell him that such a match
brought forth fruit according to its origin, but
I said it should never have been contracted. How
could you tell? he asked. You knew � you