Now that the parting was
imminent, he began to feel premature little twinges of longing. He
gazed at her figure. Her shoulders were a little rounded; much bending
over the cradle, ironing board and kitchen range had robbed her back
of its straightness. He, too, stooped a little, the result of his toil
at the writing-table, and he was obliged to wear spectacles. But at
the moment he really was not thinking of himself. He noticed that her
plaits were thinner than they had been and that a faint suggestion of
silver lay on her hair. Had she sacrificed her beauty to him, to him
alone? No, surely not to him, but to the little community which they
formed; for, after all, she had also worked for herself. His hair,
too, had grown thin in the struggle to provide for all of them. He
might have retained his youth a little longer, if there hadn't been so
many mouths to fill, if he had remained a bachelor; but he didn't
regret his marriage for one second.
"It will be a good thing for you to get away for a bit," said his
wife; "you have been too much at home."
"I suppose you are glad to get rid of me," he replied, not without
bitterness; "but I--I shall miss you very much."
"You are like a cat, you'll miss your cosy fireside, but not me; you
know you won't.
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