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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"Married"


"You will strain yourself, sweetheart," she said, making a vain
attempt to free herself from his encircling arms.
"Never, you darling! I could carry you to the end of the earth, and I
shall carry you, all of you, no matter how many you are now, or how
many you may yet become."
And they returned home, arm in arm, their hearts singing with
gladness.
"If the worst comes to the worst, sweet love, one must admit that it
is very easy to jump that abyss which separates body and soul!"
"What a thing to say!"
"If I had only realised it before, I should have been less unhappy.
Oh! those idealists!"
And they entered their cottage.
The good old times had returned and had, apparently, come to stay. The
husband went to work to his office as before. They lived again through
love's spring time. No doctor was required and the high spirits never
flagged.
After the third christening, however, he came to the conclusion that
matters were serious and started playing his old game with the
inevitable results: doctor, sick-leave, riding-exercise, port! But
there must be an end of it, at all costs. Every time the balance-sheet
showed a deficit.
But when, finally, his whole nervous system went out of joint, he let
nature have her own way.


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