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IV
Lovely Argovia ! Sweet Arcady, where the post-
master tends his flocks, where the colonel drives the only
cab, Avhere the young girls are virgins when they marry,
and the young men shoot at targets and play the drum.
Utopia ! land of the golden beer and smoked sausages ;
birthplace of the game of ninepins, the House of Habs-
burg, William Tell, rustic merry-makings and naïve
songs straight from the heart, pastors’ wives and vicarage
idylls !
Peace returned to our troubled hearts. I recovered,
and Marie, weary of strife, wrapped herself in undisguised
indifference. We played backgammon as a safety-valve,
and our conversations, so fraught with danger, were
replaced by the rolling of dice. I drank good, whole-
some beer instead of wine and the nerve-shattering
absinthe.
The influence of our environment soon made itself felt.
I was amazed to find that such serene calm could follow
the storms we had weathered, that the elasticity of the
mind could withstand so many shocks, that we could
forget the past, that I could fancy myself the happiest
husband of the most faithful wife.
Marie, deprived of all society and friends, uncomplain-
ingly devoted herself to her children. After a month
had elapsed the little ones were dressed in frocks which
she had cut out and made with her own hands. She
was never impatient with them, and allowed them to
absorb her completely.
For the first time now I noticed a certain lassitude in
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