"Listen to me, wife! Above all things, let us not have a scene, an unnecessary row," interrupted he. "You know how fruitless are your censures. Don't pester me with your stale lectures on morals."
"Nearly every month I get a letter of that sort written in the most disreputable purlieus of the town, and addressed to my husband. It is revolting! Am I to keep silent, shameless man--I your wedded wife? Am I to be silent in presence of such infamous deeds?"
"Rather too pathetic, wife! Save your breath. Don't grieve at the liberties which I take. Try and accustom yourself to pay as little attention to my conduct as I bestow upon yours. When years ago I entered the contract with you vulgarly denominated marriage, I did it with the understanding that I was uniting myself to a subject that was willing to share with me a life free from restraints; I mean, a life free from the odor of so-called hereditary moral considerations and of religious restrictions. Accustom yourself to this view of the matter, rise to my level, enjoy an emancipated existence."
He spoke and left the room. In his office he read the letter over.
"This creature is insatiable!" murmured he to himself. "I shall have to turn her off and enter into less expensive connections. I am talking with myself to-day--queer, very queer!"
A heavy knock was heard at the door.
"Come in!"
A man and woman scantily clad entered the room. The sight of the wretched couple brought a fierce passion into the usurer's countenance. He seemed suddenly transformed into a tiger, bloodthirstily crouching to seize his prey.
"What is the matter. Holt?"
"Mr. Shund," began the man in a dejected tone, "the officer of the law has served the writ upon us: it is to take effect in ten days."