in his luggage when he returned from a
trip.

But he never showed signs of drunkenness, except in his urgent
attentions to her after one of their "jolly Bohemian parties."

More abhorrent to her was the growing slackness in his personal
habits.... He had addressed her with great volubility and earnestness
upon his belief that now they were married, she must get rid of all her
virginal book-learned notions about reticence between husband and wife.
Such feminine "hanky-panky tricks," he assured her, were the cause of
"all these finicky, unhappy marriages and these rotten divorces--lot of
fool clubwomen and suffragettes and highbrows expecting a man to be like
a nun. A man's a man, and the sooner a female gets on to that fact and
doesn't nag, nag, nag him, and let's him go round being comfortable and
natural, the kinder he'll be to her, and the better it'll be for all
parties concerned. Every time! Don't forget that, old lady. Why, there's
J. J. Vance at our shop. Married one of these up-dee-dee,
poetry-reading, finicky women. Why, he did _everything_ for that woman.
Got a swell little house in Yonkers, and a vacuum cleaner, and a hired
girl, and everything. Then, my God! she said she was _lonely_! Didn't
have enough housework, that was the trouble with her; and darned if she
doesn't kick when J. J. comes in all played out at night because he
makes himself comfortable and sits around in his shirt-sleeves and
slippers. Tell you, the first thing these women have gotta learn is that
a man's a man, and if they learn that they won't _need_ a vote!"

Mr. Schwirtz's notion of being a man was to perform all hygienic
processes as publicly as the law permitted. Apparently he was proud of
his God-given body--though it had been slightly bloated since God had
given it to him--and wanted to inspire her not only with the artistic
vision of it, but with his care for it.... His thick woolen
undergarments were so uncompromisingly wooleny.

Nor had Mr. Schwirtz any false modesty in his speech. If Una had made
out a list of all the things she considered the most banal or
nauseatingly vulgar, she would have included most of the honest fellow's
favorite subjects. And at least once a day he mentioned his former wife.
At a restaurant dinner he gave a full account of her death, embalming,
and funeral.

Una identified him with vulgarity so completely that she must often have
been unjust to him. At least she was surprised now and then by a
re