ite
face.

"In every possible way I failed in my duty as a husband toward my wife.
She was light-hearted, fond of change, gayety, travel. I shut her up in
a quiet, old-fashioned town while I pursued my studies, and expected her
to content herself with absolute solitude. For years I crushed the life
out of her by withdrawing every interest and every amusement from her
life. We had one child only, a son.

"From bad, things grew to worse. What I had dreaded came to pass. She
discovered my treachery. Still, she was faithful to me, but we were
husband and wife in name only.

"Time passed on, and she made a few friends, and went out occasionally.
Then, who should come by accident to the little town where we lived but
Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. I was madly, insanely jealous, and I forbade my
wife to meet him. She declined to obey me, and she was quite right to do
so. At that time she was as faithful to me as any woman could be, and
she treated my suspicions, as they deserved to be treated, with
contempt. Sir Geoffrey and she met as friends, and if it had not been
for my brutality they would never have met in any other way.

"One night there was a fete and dance in our little town. My wife went,
against my orders, and Sir Geoffrey escorted her home. A demon of
jealousy entered into my soul that night. Although all the time I knew
that my wife was faithful to me, the worse half of my nature whispered
to me that she was not, and, wretch that I was, I stooped to listen to
it. When she returned I was mad with a fit of ungovernable rage. I shut
my doors against her, and refused to allow her to enter my house. I
taunted her with her infidelity. I bade her go to her lover. She went to
some friends, and for two days she waited for a message from me. I sent
none, and on the third day she left the place with Sir Geoffrey
Kynaston. In less than a month she was in a convent, and from that day
to this she has lived the life of a holy woman."

There was a slight tremor in his voice for the first time, and he
paused. The silence was profound. Everyone sat motionless. Everyone's
eyes were fixed upon him. In a moment he continued.

"Although by sheer brutality, by coarse insults and undeviating cruelty,
I had driven my wife to the edge of the precipice, my rage against the
man, whom I knew she had always loved, burned as fiercely as though he
had won her from me by the cruelest means. I followed them to Vienna,
and insulted him publicly. My