He was acquiring valuable and painful knowledge concerning women every
second. He grew sad, not simply with the weight of this new knowledge,
but more because, though he had envisaged certain difficulties of
married existence, he had not envisaged this difficulty. He had not
dreamed that a wife would demand a share, and demand it furiously, in
the control of his business affairs. He had sincerely imagined
that wives listened with much respect and little comprehension when
business was on the carpet, content to murmur soothingly from time to
time, "Just as you think best, dear." Life had unpleasantly astonished
him.
It was on the tip of his tongue to say to Rachel, with steadying
facetiousness--
"You mustn't forget that I know a bit about these things, having spent
years of my young life in a bank."
But a vague instinct told him that to draw attention to his career in
the bank might be unwise--at any rate, in principle.
"Can't you see," Rachel charged again, "that Mr. Batchgrew has only
been flattering you all this time so as to get hold of your money? And
wasn't it just like him to begin again harping on the electricity?>"
"Flattering me?"
"Well, he couldn't bear you before--if you'd only heard the things he
used to say!--and now he simply licks your boots.
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