Domestic fiction; Sisters -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
The marriage was, of course, a calamitous folly. From the very first,
from the moment when the commercial traveller had with incomparable
rash fatuity thrown the paper pellet over the counter, Sophia's
awakening commonsense had told her that in yielding to her instinct she
was sowing misery and shame for herself; but she had gone on, as if
under a spell. It had needed the irretrievableness of flight from home
to begin the breaking of the trance. Once fully awakened out of the
trance, she had recognized her marriage for what it was. She had made
neither the best nor the worst of it. She had accepted Gerald as one
accepts a climate. She saw again and again that he was irreclaimably a
fool and a prodigy of irresponsibleness. She tolerated him, now with
sweetness, now bitterly; accepting always his caprices, and not
permitting herself to have wishes of her own. She was ready to pay the
price of pride and of a moment's imbecility with a lifetime of
self-repression. It was high, but it was the price. She had acquired
nothing but an exceptionally good knowledge of the French language (she
soon learnt to scorn Gerald's glib maltreatment of the tongue), and she
had conserved nothing but her dignity. She knew that Gerald was sick of
her, that he would have danced for joy to be rid of her; that he was
constantly unfaithful; that he had long since ceased to be excited by
her beauty. She knew also that at bottom he was a little afraid of her;
here was her sole moral consolation. The thing that sometimes struck
her as surprising was that he had not abandoned her, simply and crudely
walked off one day and forgotten to take her with him.
They hated each other, but in different ways. She loathed him, and he
resented her.
"What do I expect you to do?" he repeated after her. "Why don't you
write home to your people and get some money out of them?"
Now that he had said what was in his mind, he faced her with a bullying
swagger. Had he been a bigger man he might have tried the effect of
physical bullying on her. One of his numerous reasons for resenting her
was that she was the taller of the two.
She made no reply.
"Now you needn't turn pale and begin all that fuss over again. What I'm
suggesting is a perfectly reasonable thing. If I haven't got money I
haven't got it. I can't invent it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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