Her husband was prouder of her every day. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. I can be a gentleman. "May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings.
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