an seldom asks
much: if only a wife will not compromise his reputation for
attractiveness while maintaining her own by flirtation, if she will
accept his political views, acquire a taste for his favorite holiday
resorts, and generally say, "Yes, darling", or "No, darling",
opportunely, she need do nothing, she has only "beautifully to be." He
is not so fortunate, however, when she wants to possess him, for she
demands that he should be active, that the pretty words, caresses, the
anxious inquiries after health, the presents of flowers and of stalls
should continue. It is not enough that he should love her; he must still
be her lover. When she is not sure that he still is her lover, a
madness of unrest comes over her; she will lacerate him, she will invent
wishes so that he may thwart them, she will demand his society when she
knows it is mortgaged to another occupation, so that she may suffer his
refusal, exaggerate his indifference. Here are cases:

M 21. She: "He used to take me to dances. The other day he wouldn't
come, he said he was tired. He wasn't tired when we were engaged."

The Investigator: "But why should he go if he didn't want to?"

She: "Because I wanted to."

The Investigator: "But he didn't want to."

She: "He _ought_ to take pleasure in pleasing me."

(The conversation here degenerates into a discussion on duty and becomes
uninteresting.)

M 4. The husband is a doctor with a very extended city practice. He is
busy eleven hours a day and has night calls. His marriage has been
spoilt because in the first years the wife, who is young and gay, could
not understand that the man, who was always surrounded by people, in
houses, streets, conveyances, should not desire society. She resented
his wish to be alone for some hours, to shut himself up. There were
tears, and like most people she looked ugly when she cried. She was
lonely, and when one is lonely, it is difficult to realize that other
people may be too much surrounded.

5

A great deal of all this, however, might pass away if one could feel
that it would not last. Nothing matters that does not last. Only one
must be conscious of it, and in marriage many people are dully aware
that they have settled down, that they have drawn the one and only
ticket they can ever hope to draw, unless merciful death steps in. There
will be no more adventures, no more excitements, no more marsh fires,
which one knows deceptive yet loves to follow. It will be d