consent to send him across the seas, and that made him feel he was fortune's victim: there were men less able than he, and yet they got what they wanted... His withdrawal into himself increased, straying thereby beyond the reach of my understanding and my senses... His jealousy grew, and so did his indulgence in drink... And, as usually happens in such cases, he poured out the full measure of his anger and resentment upon the person he loved, and I became the prey of the fancies and pains that warred within him.
In company he seemed natural, showing no scraps of his real self, but keeping it back until he crossed the threshold of the house; then he would be silent for hours, and if he broke his silence it was to upbraid me and accuse me of ignoring him and humoring others... I remember, too, his practical jokes: he would lock me in the room and go out, to be gone for hours... I tried to head off the impending danger, so I began to give parties and invite society to them, or I would go out with him to the "Del Corovado" hotel, and there I made the acquaintance of Barrymore, of "Charlie Chaplin," and of "the Prince of Wales"... But this anaesthetic only made our private troubles worse... It happened that my mother came to visit us, and she felt the coolness between us, though we tried to convince her with a false veneer of gaiety and calm... That did not keep her from offering a piece of advice as she bade me farewell: Wallis... it troubles me greatly that you make friends and pick your companions with such ease... I fear this will bring you abundant troubles in your days to come... As for me, I began to watch for a miracle that would steady the pillars of our tottering house... But Win's work grew more and more entangled, and one of his superiors turned against him; it seems that the tangling of practi
cal affairs finds an echo in every step of life... And the sole solution for it all was the bottle of drink.
We were not shut off from the neighbors, for our quarrels seeped through the wall to the neighbors' ears. I remember one Saturday afternoon... Win locked the bathroom door and left me inside for hours... To this day I do not know whether he left the house or stayed within... I tried to open the door with a nail file and did not succeed... By evening my
nerves were worn out, and I dared not cry for help; at last I heard the creak of the key, and when I opened the door the house was in pitch darkness, and I heard Win's breathing as he lay stretched on his bed... As for me, I spent the rest of the night on a sofa in the sitting room, reviewing before me the chain of troubles that beset my life... And in those moments I reached a decision: to separate from Win.
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