ide from the world her
shame, her humiliation, her degradation? To be the wife of a drunkard,
a man given up to the vilest passions, who came to her only when,
temporarily bereft of his reason, she was no longer able to recognize
in him the man she had married!

The first time it happened she thought she would go insane from
fright, horror and disgust. He had been out to dinner and returned
home very late, and so tipsy that he fell down the front steps. She
heard nothing of the commotion, having gone to bed and closed her
door. He knocked and asked her to come into the library and chat a
little; so, thinking to please him, she slipped on a robe and went in.
At first she did not notice his condition. He was in high spirits and
insisted on opening a bottle of champagne. Then she observed that his
face was flushed, a strange look was in his eyes--a look she had never
seen there before--and his breath smelled strong of drink. He became
very amorous and clumsily threw his arms around her. She recoiled in
disgust, but he seized her, overpowered her by sheer brute strength,
leered at her like some gibbering ape, polluted her lips with
whiskey-laden kisses, claimed possession of her body with the
unreasoning frenzy of a beast in rut.

The next day he avoided her, as if ashamed of his conduct, and for
some time he kept out of her way. Then frankly, candidly, he came to
her and asked her pardon. It would never happen again, he said, if
only she would forgive him. She forgave, and a few weeks later the
same disgraceful scene occurred. Again he professed to be filled with
remorse. Never again would he touch wine--if only she would again
overlook it. A second time was he forgiven, and shortly afterwards she
was once more the victim of his lust and violence.

Panic-stricken, not knowing where to turn, in whom to confide, she
went almost insane from anxiety and grief. She could not take
strangers into her confidence; she even shrank from telling her own
sister. This, then, was the barrier which her unerring instinct had
sensed--her husband was a drunkard! He took pleasure in his wife's
society only when the champagne aroused his amorous instincts. That
was why he had married her. This millionaire had covered her with
jewels, given her a luxurious home, but at what a price! He had said
he loved her. Love? Such a word was a mockery in the mouth of such a
voluptuary. The only feeling he had for her was the blind instinct of
the prime