I looked towards Mary, where she stood talking to Redvers of the Sikhs--I always hated Redvers, and never saw what women admired in him. Myra laughed at my speech--it was an odd little laugh, and I did not like it. "Who makes her dresses?" she asked. "And now give me your arm and take me to your wife." I should not have done it, I know I should not, but my hand was forced. If I had had the moral courage I should have got out of it somehow. It was just that want of moral courage that broke me. This is something like a verdict against myself, but it is worth while setting forth the whole indictment. I began to tire of Mary's rigid rules of honesty and strict economy. She tied me down too much. I should have been allowed a run now and again. The short of it was that I began to break out of bounds, and in a few months was leading my old life once again. There was this difference, however--that formerly I had nothing to fear, whereas now it was necessary to conceal things. I flattered myself that I was still her idol. I should have known she had long ago perceived that the idol was of the earth, earthy. I had occasionally to resort to falsehood, and was almost as invariably discovered. I had not a sufficiently good memory to be a complete liar. The shame of it was knowing I was discovered; but Mary never threw it up to my face. She set herself to her duty loyally, though day by day I could see the despair eating its way through her. I had taken to gambling again, and as usual had bad luck and lost heavily. This necessitated my having to borrow some more money, which I arranged to pay back by instalments; and then I had to tell my wife that, owing to an alteration in the scales of pay, my income was so much the less. I upbraided the rules of the service, and on this occasion Mary believed me. I resolved to gamble no more. About this time my wife got ill, and when she recovered there was a small Mary in the house. During her illness things were so upset that I was compelled to frequent my club more than ever. To add to the worry to which I was subjected, the child got ill, and really seemed very ill indeed. All this involved expenditure which I did not know how to meet, and in despair one evening I turned to the cards again. It was the only thing to do. It was absurd to lose all I had lost, for the want of a little pluck to pull it back again.