George Augustus did not know how to make a living; he did not know in the very least how to treat a woman; he did not know how to live with a woman; he did not know how to make love to a woman—in fact he was all minus there, for his experience with whores had been sordid, dismal and repulsive; he did not know the anatomy of his own body, let alone the anatomy of a woman’s body; he had not the faintest idea how to postpone conception ** **** ** ***** ** **** *** ** ********** * ****** *****, ****** ******* ** *** ****** *** **** ***** ** **** ******; he did not know what is implied by “a normal sexual life”; ** *** *** **** **** ***** *** *** ****** ***** *******; ** *** *** **** **** ** ***** * *** *** ********* *** ******** ***** **** *** ** ******* * ***** **** * ***** *** ** *** **** ****** **** *** **** ********* ** *** *** *** **** **; ** *** **** **** ***** **** *******; he did not know that pregnancy is a nine months’ illness; he had not the least idea that childbirth costs money if the woman is not to suffer vilely; he did not know that a married man dependent on his and his wife’s parents is an abject, helpless and contemptible figure; he did not know that it is hard to earn a decent living even when you have “A Profession”; he knew damn little about even his profession; he knew very little indeed about the conditions of life and nothing about human psychology; he knew nothing about business and money, except how to spend it; he knew nothing about indoor sanitation, food values, carpentry, house furnishing, shopping, fire-lighting, chimney-sweeping, higher mathematics, Greek, domestic invective, making the worse appear the better cause, how to feed a baby, music, dancing, Swedish drill, opening sardine tins, boiling eggs, which side of the bed to sleep with a woman, charades, gas stoves, and an infinity of other things all indispensable to a married man. He must have been rather a dull dog.