oul! That's her husband's
prerogative."

There was silence for a moment, during which he still looked at me, his
thick eyelids half hiding the pathetic gaze of his little eyes.

"My life's a hell!" he said, and laid his head between his hands on the
table. I saw a shudder in his fat shoulders.

"My dear M. Struboff," I murmured, as I rose and walked round to him. I
did not like touching him, but I forced myself to pat his shoulder
kindly. "Women take whims and fancies," said I, as I walked back to my
seat.

He raised his head and set his chin between his fists.

"She took me for what she could get out of me," said he.

"Shall we be just? Didn't you look to get something out of her?"

"Yes. I married her for that," he answered. "But I'm a damned fool! I
saw that she loathed me; it isn't hard to see. You see it; everybody
sees it."

"And you fell in love with her? That was breaking the bargain, wasn't
it?" It crossed my mind that I might possibly break my bargain with
Elsa. But the peril was remote.

"My God, it's maddening to be treated like a beast. Am I repulsive, am I
loathsome?"

"What a question, my dear M. Struboff!"

"And I live with her. It is for all day and every day."

"Come, come, be reasonable. We're not lovesick boys."

"If I touch a piece of bread in giving it to her, she cuts herself
another slice."

How I understood you in that, O dainty cruel Coralie!

"And that devil comes and laughs at me."

"He needn't come, if you don't wish it."

"Perhaps it's better than being alone with her," he groaned. "And she
doesn't deceive me. Ah, I should like sometimes to say to her, 'Do what
you like; amuse yourself, I shall not see. It wouldn't matter.' If she
did that, she mightn't be so hard to me. You wonder that I say this,
that I feel it like this? Well, I'm a man; I'm not a dog. I don't dirty
people when I touch them."

I got up and walked to the hearthrug. I stood there with my back to him.
He blew his nose loudly, then took the bottle; I heard the wine trickle
in the glass and the sound of his noisy swallowing. There was a long
silence. He struck a match and lit his cigar. Then he folded up the
notes I had given him, and the clasp of his pocket-book clicked.

"I have to go with her to rehearsal," he said.

I turned round and walked toward him. His uneasy deference returned, he
jumped up with a bow and an air of awkward embarrassment.

"Your Majesty is very good. Your Majesty pardons me