Frithiof made more than one attempt to emancipate himself, but his
attempts were always frustrated by the enemy; they were too many for
him, and they talked and preached until he fled into the wood.
The evenings held terror for him. He hated the bedroom, and went to it
as to a place of execution. He became morose and avoided everybody.
They had been married for a year now, and still there was no promise
of a child; his mother took him aside one day to have a talk to him.
"Wouldn't you like to have a son?" she asked.
"Of course, I would," he replied.
"You aren't treating your wife very kindly," said the mother as gently
as possible.
He lost his temper.
"What? What do you say? Are you finding fault with me? Do you want me
to toil all day long? H'm! You don't know Louisa! But whose business
is it but mine? Bring your charge against me in such a way that I can
answer it!"
But the mother was not disposed to do that.
Lonely and miserable, he made friends with the inspector, a young man,
addicted to wine and cards. He sought his company and spent the evenings
in his room; he went to bed late, as late as possible.
On coming home one night, he found his wife still awake and waiting
for him.
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