Amy made a rapid study of his countenance. She had never entertained for a moment the supposition that his wits were unsettled, but none the less the constant recurrence of that idea in her mother’s talk had subtly influenced her against her husband. It had confirmed her in thinking that his behaviour was inexcusable. And now it seemed to her that anyone might be justified in holding him demented, so reckless was his utterance.
It was difficult to know him as the man who had loved her so devotedly, who was incapable of an unkind word or look.
‘If that is what you prefer,’ she said, ‘there must be a formal separation. I can’t trust my future to your caprice.’
‘You mean it must be put into the hands of a lawyer?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘That will be the best, no doubt.’
‘Very well; I will speak with my friends about it.’
‘Your friends!’ he exclaimed bitterly. ‘But for those friends of yours, this would never have happened. I wish you had been alone in the world and penniless.’
‘A kind wish, all things considered.’
‘Yes, it is a kind wish. Then your marriage with me would have been binding; you would have known that my lot was yours, and the knowledge would have helped your weakness. I begin to see how much right there is on the side of those people who would keep women in subjection. You have been allowed to act with independence, and the result is that you have ruined my life and debased your own. If I had been strong enough to treat you as a child, and bid you follow me wherever my own fortunes led, it would have been as much better for you as for me. I was weak, and I suffer as all weak people do.’