And yet this tender-hearted woman, who tortured me with pin-pricks, cried bitterly one morning because the gardener was killing a rabbit for dinner, and confessed to me in the evening that she had been praying that the poor little beast's sufferings might be short.
Not long ago I saw somewhere a statement made by a psychopathist to the effect that an exaggerated love for animals combined with indifference towards the sufferings of one's fellow-creatures is a symptom of insanity.
Marie could pray for a rabbit and at the same time torment her husband with smiling lips.
On our last Sunday in the country she took me aside, talked in flattering terms of my generosity, appealed to my kind heart and begged me to cancel Miss Amy's debt to us, pleading her very small means.
I consented without discussing the matter, without telling her that I had anticipated the suggestion, foreseen the trick, the inevitable trick. But she, armed to the teeth with arguments, even when she was unopposed, continued—
"If not, I could, if necessary, pay her share for her!"
No doubt she could have done so. But could she have paid for the annoyance and trouble caused by her friend?...
Ah, well—husband and wife must not fall out over trifles.