terrible, and the more astonishing because they were followed by a
brutal passion extremely strained. If it had not been he, some other
would have come. If the pretext had not been jealousy, I should have
discovered another. I insist upon this point,--that all husbands
who live the married life that I lived must either resort to outside
debauchery, or separate from their wives, or kill themselves, or kill
their wives as I did. If there is any one in my case to whom this does
not happen, he is a very rare exception, for, before ending as I ended,
I was several times on the point of suicide, and my wife made several
attempts to poison herself."



CHAPTER XX.

"In order that you may understand me, I must tell you how this happened.
We were living along, and all seemed well. Suddenly we began to talk
of the children's education. I do not remember what words either of us
uttered, but a discussion began, reproaches, leaps from one subject to
another. 'Yes, I know it. It has been so for a long time.' . . . 'You
said that.' . . . 'No, I did not say that.' . . . 'Then I lie?' etc.

"And I felt that the frightful crisis was approaching when I should
desire to kill her or else myself. I knew that it was approaching; I
was afraid of it as of fire; I wanted to restrain myself. But rage
took possession of my whole being. My wife found herself in the same
condition, perhaps worse. She knew that she intentionally distorted each
of my words, and each of her words was saturated with venom. All that
was dear to me she disparaged and profaned. The farther the quarrel
went, the more furious it became. I cried, 'Be silent,' or something