He did not
lose his berth, for bankruptcy had been avoided, but he had lost all
chance of promotion.
Later on he is permitted to visit wife and child once a week, but he
is never allowed to see her alone. He spends Saturday night in a tiny
room, close to his father-in-law's bedroom. On Sunday morning he has
to return to town, for the paper appears on Monday morning.... He says
good-bye to his wife and child who are allowed to accompany him as far
as the garden gate, he waves his hand to them once more from the
furthest hillock, and succumbs to his wretchedness, his misery, his
humiliation. And she is no less unhappy.
He has calculated that it will take him twenty years to pay his debts.
And then? Even then he cannot maintain a wife and child. And his
prospects? He has none! If his father-in-law should die, his wife and
child would be thrown on the street; he cannot venture to look forward
to the death of their only support.
Oh! How cruel it is of nature to provide food for all her creatures,
leaving the children of men alone to starve! Oh! How cruel, how cruel!
that life has not ptarmigans and strawberries to give to all men. How
cruel! How cruel!
COMPELLED TO
Punctually at half past nine on a winter evening he appears at the
door leading to the glass-roofed verandah of the restaurant.
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