dreaming of one, an unforgivable crime. Hers was a heart as pure as the heart of a child. But God curse Satan! He deluded me and set me thinking that these acts of hers were mere appearances, concealing what I could not bear to think of. And this delusion led me to what shattered my life and pulled my house down upon my head. Here is the story:

My wife had a private table at which she would write and which she used for her own purposes, and this table had a drawer she was always careful to keep locked with a key she kept to herself — which set me doubting about it and wondering what she could wish to hide from me. My thoughts and my doubts turned into a sweeping jealousy I could not rein in, and it drove me to work at the drawer to open it while my wife was away visiting a friend of hers. After I had tried several keys, one of them served and opened the drawer. I turned over all its contents, and there I came upon a bundle of letters which anyone who saw them would know at first glance to be brimming with passion and sentiment. They were laid in order one atop another and tied with a ribbon of red silk. I undid the ribbon, believing them to be old letters going back to the days before our marriage; but how great was my astonishment when I read them! They contained the foulest things that can be said against a man, and they were sent by the dearest of my friends, and there was in them such contempt for husbands as a decent man would blush to read. They con-tained, besides, advice to help her keep her husband in the ignorance he was in. And this letter had been sent only lately — that is, after our marriage — which increased my certainty and my fury. I cannot describe the feeling that seized me then. I drank my cup to the dregs, not knowing the poison that was in it...

I folded the letters, put them back in their place, and locked the drawer; and in that mad fury I had resolved upon something.

Not long after, my wife came

back from her visit and came toward me skipping with joy, as was her way. When she reached me she pressed me to her and printed on my cheek a kiss into which she put the utmost of her softness and warmth.

I froze where I stood, and pre-tended that nothing whatever had happened, and excused myself for not having been able to join her. After she had taken her supper

we sat talking as usual. Then each of us rose and went to his bed when bedtime came. And when midnight came I rose from my bed and entered her room, and found her sunk in a deep, quiet sleep,

the heaven of purity and gentle-ness upon her beautiful face... My fury only