The Wife of Sir Isaac HarmanWells, H. G. (Herbert George)
General
The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman
Wells, H. G. (Herbert George)
England -- Fiction; Upper class -- Fiction; Women's rights -- Fiction
Husband and wife walked slowly in the afternoon sunlight across the
still beautiful garden. Each was gravely aware of an embarrassed
incapacity for the task they had set themselves. They were going to
talk things over. Never in their lives had they really talked to each
other clearly and honestly about anything. Indeed it is scarcely too
much to say that neither had ever talked about anything to anyone. She
was too young, her mind was now growing up in her and feeling its way
to conscious expression, and he had never before wanted to express
himself. He did now want to express himself. For behind his rant and
fury Sir Isaac had been thinking very hard indeed during the last three
weeks about his life and her life and their relations; he had never
thought so much about anything except his business economics. So far he
had either joked at her, talked “silly” to her, made, as they say,
“remarks,” or vociferated. That had been the sum of their mental
intercourse, as indeed it is the sum of the intercourse of most married
couples. His attempt to state his case to her had so far always flared
into rhetorical outbreaks. But he was discontented with these
rhetorical outbreaks. His dispositions to fall into them made him
rather like a nervous sepia that cannot keep its ink sac quiet while it
is sitting for its portrait. In the earnestness of his attempt at
self-display he vanished in his own outpourings.
He wanted now to reason with her simply and persuasively. He wanted to
say quietly impressive and convincing things in a low tone of voice and
make her abandon every possible view except his view. He walked now
slowly meditating the task before him, making a faint thoughtful noise
with his teeth, his head sunken in the collar of the motor overcoat he
wore because of a slight cold he had caught. And he had to be careful
about colds because of his constitutional defect. She too felt she had
much to say. Much too she had in her mind that she couldn’t say,
because this strange quarrel had opened unanticipated things for her;
she had found and considered repugnances in her nature she had never
dared to glance at hitherto....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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