w the truth, my money-man. Do you think she'd have looked at me
if you'd been to her what she thought I might be? No, bien sur! Did you
take her where she could see the world? No. Did you bring her presents?
No. Did you say, 'Come along, we will make a little journey to see the
world?' No. Do you think that a woman can sit and darn your socks, and
tidy your room, and bake you pancakes in the morning while you roast
your toes, and be satisfied with just that, and not long for something
outside?"

Jean Jacques was silent. He did not move. He was being hypnotized by a
mind of subtle strength, by the logic of which he was so great a lover.

The master-carpenter pressed his logic home. "No, she must sit in your
shadow always. She must wait till you come. And when you come, it was
'Here am I, your Jean Jacques. Fall down and worship me. I am your
husband.' Did you ever say, 'Heavens, there you are, the woman of all
the world, the rising and the setting sun, the star that shines, the
garden where all the flowers of love grow'? Did you ever do that? But
no, there was only one person in the world--there was only you, Jean
Jacques. You were the only pig in the sty."

It was a bold stroke, but if Jean Jacques could stand that, he could
stand anything. There was a savage start on the part of Jean Jacques,
and the lever almost moved.

"Stop one second!" cried the master-carpenter, sharply now, for in
spite of the sudden savagery on Jean Jacques' part, he felt he had an
advantage, and now he would play his biggest card.

"You can kill me. It is there in your hand. No one can stop you. But
will that give you anything? What is my life? If you take it away, will
you be happier? It is happiness you want. Your wife--she will love you,
if you give her a chance. If you kill me, I will have my revenge in
death, for it is the end of all things for you. You lose your wife for
ever. You need not do so. She would have gone with me, not because
of me, but because I was a man who she thought would treat her like a
friend, like a comrade; who would love her--sacre, what husband could
help make love to such a woman, unless he was in love with himself
instead of her!"

Jean Jacques rocked to and fro over the lever in his agitation, yet he
made no motion to move it. He was under a spell.

Straight home drove the master-carpenter's reasoning now. "Kill me, and
you lose her for ever. Kill me, and she will hate you. You think she
will not find ou