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child； and she was temporarily deprived of the only remedy for
coquetry。 A nurse finished the nursing of this first…born；that
is to say； we profited by the poverty and ignorance of a woman to
steal her from her own little one in favor of ours； and for that
purpose we dressed her in a kakoschnik trimmed with gold lace。
Nevertheless； that is not the question； but there was again
awakened in my wife that coquetry which had been sleeping during
the nursing period。 Thanks to that； she reawakened in me the
torments of jealousy which I had formerly known； though in a much
slighter degree。
CHAPTER XV。
〃Yes； jealousy； that is another of the secrets of marriage known
to all and concealed by all。 Besides the general cause of the
mutual hatred of husbands and wives resulting from complicity in
the pollution of a human being； and also from other causes； the
inexhaustible source of marital wounds is jealousy。 But by tacit
consent it is determined to conceal them from all； and we conceal
them。 Knowing them； each one supposes in himself that it is an
unfortunate peculiarity； and not a common destiny。 So it was
with me； and it had to be so。 There cannot fail to be jealousy
between husbands and wives who live immorally。 If they cannot
sacrifice their pleasures for the welfare of their child； they
conclude therefrom； and truly； that they will not sacrifice their
pleasures for； I will not say happiness and tranquillity （since
one may sin in secret）； but even for the sake of conscience。 Each
one knows very well that neither admits any high moral reasons
for not betraying the other； since in their mutual relations they
fail in the requirements of morality； and from that time distrust
and watch each other。
〃Oh； what a frightful feeling of jealousy！ I do not speak of
that real jealousy which has foundations （it is tormenting； but
it promises an issue）； but of that unconscious jealousy which
inevitably accompanies every immoral marriage； and which； having
no cause； has no end。 This jealousy is frightful。 Frightful；
that is the word。
〃And this is it。 A young man speaks to my wife。 He looks at her
with a smile； and； as it seems to me； he surveys her body。 How
does he dare to think of her； to think of the possibility of a
romance with her？ And how can she； seeing this； tolerate him？
Not only does she tolerate him； but she seems pleased。 I even
see that she puts herself to trouble on his account。 And in my
soul there rises such a hatred for her that each of her words；
each gesture； disgusts me。 She notices it； she knows not what to
do； and how assume an air of indifferent animation？ Ah！ I
suffer！ That makes her gay； she is content。 And my hatred
increases tenfold； but I do not dare to give it free force；
because at the bottom of my soul I know that there are no real
reasons for it； and I remain in my seat； feigning indifference；
and exaggerating my attention and courtesy to HIM。
〃Then I get angry with myself。 I desire to leave the room； to
leave them alone； and I do； in fact； go out； but scarcely am I
outside when I am invaded by a fear of what is taking place
within my absence。 I go in again； inventing some pretext。 Or
sometimes I do not go in； I remain near the door； and listen。
How can she humiliate herself and humiliate me by placing me in
this cowardly situation of suspicion and espionage？ Oh；
abomination！ Oh； the wicked animal！ And he too； what does he
think of you？ But he is like all men。 He is what I was before
my marriage。 It gives him pleasure。 He even smiles when he
looks at me； as much as to say： 'What have you to do with this？
It is my turn now。'
〃This feeling is horrible。 Its burn is unendurable。 To
entertain this feeling toward any one； to once suspect a man of
lusting after my wife； was enough to spoil this man forever in my
eyes； as if he had been sprinkled with vitriol。 Let me once
become jealous of a being； and nevermore could I re…establish
with him simple human relations； and my eyes flashed when I
looked at him。
〃As for my wife； so many times had I enveloped her with this
moral vitriol； with this jealous hatred； that she was degraded
thereby。 In the periods of this causeless hatred I gradually
uncrowned her。 I covered her with shame in my imagination。
〃I invented impossible knaveries。 I suspected； I am ashamed to
say； that she； this queen of 'The Thousand and One Nights；'
deceived me with my serf； under my very eyes； and laughing at me。
Thus； with each new access of jealousy （I speak always of
causeless jealousy）； I entered into the furrow dug formerly by my
filthy suspicions； and I continually deepened it。 She did the
same thing。 If I have reasons to be jealous； she who knew my
past had a thousand times more。 And she was more ill…natured in
her jealousy than I。 And the sufferings that I felt from her
jealousy were different； and likewise very painful。
〃The situation may be described thus。 We are living more or less
tranquilly。 I am even gay and contented。 Suddenly we start a
conversation on some most commonplace subject； and directly she
finds herself disagreeing with me upon matters concerning which
we have been generally in accord。 And furthermore I see that；
without any necessity therefor； she is becoming irritated。 I
think that she has a nervous attack； or else that the subject of
conversation is really disagreeable to her。 We talk of something
else； and that begins again。 Again she torments me； and becomes
irritated。 I am astonished and look for a reason。 Why？ For
what？ She keeps silence； answers me with monosyllables；
evidently making allusions to something。 I begin to divine that
the reason of all this is that I have taken a few walks in the
garden with her cousin； to whom I did not give even a thought。 I
begin to divine； but I cannot say so。 If I say so； I confirm her
suspicions。 I interrogate her； I question her。 She does not
answer； but she sees that I understand； and that confirms her
suspicions。
〃'What is the matter with you？' I ask。
〃'Nothing； I am as well as usual；' she answers。
〃And at the same time； like a crazy woman； she gives utterance to
the silliest remarks； to the most inexplicable explosions of
spite。
〃Sometimes I am patient； but at other times I break out with
anger。 Then her own irritation is launched forth in a flood of
insults； in charges of imaginary crimes and all carried to the
highest degree by sobs； tears； and retreats through the house to
the most improbable spots。 I go to look for her。 I am ashamed
before people； before the children； but there is nothing to be
done。 She is in a condition where I feel that she is ready for
anything。 I run； and finally find her。 Nights of torture
follow； in which both of us； with exhausted nerves； appease each
other； after the most cruel words and accusations。
〃Yes； jealousy； causeless jealousy； i