Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part III - II
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186 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
From that day the dog was allowed to do exactly as it
liked, and it dirtied the place without shame or restraint.
Sometimes it seemed to me that it did it out of revenge.
But I controlled my temper.
I waited for a favourable opportunity, for the happy
chance which would deliver me from the torture of a life
spent in an unclean home. . . .
And the moment arrived. On returning to dinner one
day, I found my wife in tears. She was in great distress.
Dinner was not ready. The maid was looking for the
lost dog.
Hardly able to conceal my joy, I made every effort to
comfort my inconsolable wife. But she could not under-
stand my sympathy with her grief, for she realised my
inward satisfaction in finding the enemy gone.
"You are delighted, I know you are," she exclaimed.
**
You find amusement in the misfortunes of your friends.
That shows how full of malice you are, and that you don’t
love me any more."
" My love for you is as great as ever it was, believe
me, but I detest your dog."
"If you love me, you must love my dog too!
"
" If I didn’t love you, I should have struck you before
now !
"
The effect of my words was startling. To strike a
woman ! Carried away by her resentment, she reproached
me with having turned out her dog, poisoned it.
We went to every police-station, we paid a visit to the
knacker, and in the end the disturber of our peace and
happiness was recovered. My wife and her friend,
regarding me as a poisoner, or at any rate a potential
poisoner, celebrated its recovery with great rejoicings.
Henceforth the monster was kept a prisoner in my
wife’s bedroom ; that charming retreat of love, furnished
with exquisite taste, was turned into a dog’s kennel.
Our small flat became uninhabitable, our home-life full
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