ce of wax in the hands of his Catholic wife, or
let us say, rather, of his Jesuit wife."

"Wax in the hands of his wife, who proceeded to bamboozle him.
Certainly, Innstetten, that is just what he was. But you don't think,
do you, that that is going to save him? He is forever condemned.
Moreover it has never yet been shown conclusively"--at these words his
glance sought rather timorously the eye of his better half--"that
petticoat government is not really to be considered an advantage.
Only, of course, it must be the right sort of a wife. But who was this
wife? She was not a wife at all. The most charitable thing to call her
is a 'dame,' and that tells the whole story. 'Dame' almost always
leaves an after-taste. This Eugenie--whose relation to the Jewish
banker I gladly ignore here, for I hate the 'I-am-holier-than-thou'
attitude--had a streak of the _cafe-chantant_ in her, and, if the city
in which she lived was a Babylon, she was a wife of Babylon. I don't
care to express myself more plainly, for I know"--and he bowed toward
Effi--"what I owe to German wives. Your pardon, most gracious Lady,
that I have so much as touched upon these things within your hearing."

Such had been the trend of the conversation, after they had talked
about the election, the assassin Nobiling, and the rape crop, and when
Innstetten and Effi reached home they sat down to chat for half an
hour. The two housemaids were already in bed, for it was nearly
midnight.

Innstetten put on his short house coat and morocco slippers, and began
to walk up and down in the room; Effi was still dressed in her society
gown, and her fan and gloves lay beside her.

"Now," said Innstetten, standing still, "we really ought to celebrate
this day, but I don't know as yet how. Shall I play you a triumphal
march, or set the shark going out there, or carry you in triumph
across the hall? Something must be done, for I would have you know,
this visit today was the last one."

"Thank heaven, if it was," said Effi. "But the feeling that we now
have peace and quiet is, I think, celebration enough in itself. Only
you might give me a kiss. But that doesn't occur to you. On that whole
long road not a touch, frosty as a snow-man. And never a thing but
your cigar."

"Forget that, I am going to reform, but at present I merely want to
know your attitude toward this whole question of friendly relations
and social intercourse. Do you feel drawn to one or another of these
new