ADOLF. I wouldn't like to go quite so far as that. Of course the thought crops up now and again, how calmly I should be able to live if I were free--but she scarcely leaves me before I immediately long for her again, as though she were my arm, my leg. Strange. When I'm alone I sometimes feel as though she didn't have any real self of her own, as though she were a part of my ego, a piece out of my inside, that stole away all my will, all my _joie de vivre_. Why, my very marrow itself, to use an anatomical expression, is situated in her; that's what it seems like. GUSTAV. Viewing the matter broadly, that seems quite plausible. ADOLF. Nonsense. An independent person like she is, with such a tremendous lot of personal views, and when I met her, what was I then? Nothing. An artistic child which she brought up. GUSTAV. But afterwards you developed her intellect and educated her, didn't you? ADOLF. No; her growth remained stationary, and I shot up. GUSTAV. Yes; it's really remarkable, but her literary talent already began to deteriorate after her first book, or, to put it as charitably as possible, it didn't develop any further. [_He sits down opposite Adolf on the sofa on the left._] Of course she then had the most promising subject-matter--for of course she drew the portrait of her first husband--you never knew him, old man? He must have been an unmitigated ass. ADOLF. I've never seen him. He was away for more than six months, but the good fellow must have been as perfect an ass as they're made, judging by her description--you can take it from me, old man, that her description wasn't exaggerated. GUSTAV. Quite; but why did she marry him? ADOLF. She didn't know him then. People only get to know one another afterwards, don't you know. GUSTAV. But, according to that, people have no business to marry until--Well, the man was a tyrant, obviously. ADOLF. Obviously? GUSTAV. What husband wouldn't be? [_Casually._] Why, old chap, you're as much a tyrant as any of the others. ADOLF. Me? I? Well, I allow my wife to come and go as she jolly well pleases! GUSTAV [_stands up_]. Pah! a lot of good that is. I didn't suppose you kept her locked up. [_He turns round behind the square table and comes over to Adolf on the right._] Don't you mind if she's out all night? ADOLF. I should think I do. GUSTAV. Look here. [_Resuming his earlier tone._] Speaking as man to man, it simply makes you ridiculous. ADOLF. Ridiculous? Can a man's trusting his wife make him ridiculous? GUSTAV. Of course it can. And you've been so for some time. No doubt about it. [_He walks round the round table on the right._] ADOLF [_excitedly_]. Me? I'd have preferred to be anything but that. I must put matters right. GUSTAV. Don't you get so excited, otherwise you'll get an attack again. ADOLF [_after a pause_]. Why doesn't she look ridiculous when I stay out all night?