What the Baroness had foreseen, happened. The Baron contracted a
spiritual marriage with the cousin, and his wife was left out in the
cold. But the cousin was also beautiful, and when she leaned over the
Baron at his writing-desk, and he felt her soft arm on his shoulder
and her warm breath against his cheek, he could not suppress a
sensation of supreme well-being. Needless to say, their conversation
was not always of prisons. They also discussed love. She believed in
the love of the souls, and she stated as plainly as she could, that
marriage without love was prostitution. The Baron had not taken much
interest in the development of modern ideas on love, and found that
her views on the subject were rather hard, but after all she was
probably quite right.
But the cousin possessed other qualities, too, invaluable qualifications
for a true spiritual marriage. She had no objection to tobacco smoke for
instance, in fact, she was very fond of a cigarette herself. There was no
reason, therefore, why she should not go into the smoking-room with the
men after dinner and talk about politics. And then she was charming.
Tortured by little twinges of conscience, the Baron would every now
and then disappear from the smoking-room, go into the nursery, kiss
his wife and child, and ask her how she was getting on? The Baroness
was grateful, but she was not happy.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141