But this did not trouble him so much as it might have done. For now he
was convinced inwardly that she could no longer in fairness be judged as
a woman, but as a fox only. And as a fox she had done no more than other
foxes, indeed in having cubs and tending them with love, she had done
well.

Whether in this conclusion Mr. Tebrick was in the right or not, is not
for us here to consider. But I would only say to those who would censure
him for a too lenient view of the religious side of the matter, that we
have not seen the thing as he did, and perhaps if it were displayed
before our eyes we might be led to the same conclusions.

This was, however, not a tenth part of the trouble in which Mr. Tebrick
found himself. For he asked himself also: "Was he not jealous?" And
looking into his heart he found that he was indeed jealous, yes, and
angry too, that now he must share his vixen with wild foxes. Then he
questioned himself if it were not dishonourable to do so, and whether
he should not utterly forget her and follow his original intention of
retiring from the world, and see her no more.

Thus he tormented himself for the rest of that day, and by evening he
had resolved never to see her again.

But in the middle of the night he woke up with his head very clear, and
said to himself in wonder, "Am I not a madman? I torment myself
foolishly with fantastic notions. Can a man have his honour sullied by a
beast? I am a man, I am immeasurably superior to the animals. Can my
dignity allow of my being jealous of a beast? A thousand times no. Were
I to lust after a vixen, I were a criminal indeed. I can be happy in
seeing my vixen, for I love her, but she does right to be happy