“How are you to blame?” my wife said after a long silence, looking at me with red eyes that gleamed with tears.  “You are very well educated and very well bred, very honest, just, and high-principled, but in you the effect of all that is that wherever you go you bring suffocation, oppression, something insulting and humiliating to the utmost degree.  You have a straightforward way of looking at things, and so you hate the whole world.  You hate those who have faith, because faith is an expression of ignorance and lack of culture, and at the same time you hate those who have no faith for having no faith and no ideals; you hate old people for being conservative and behind the times, and young people for free-thinking.  The interests of the peasantry and of Russia are dear to you, and so you hate the peasants because you suspect every one of them of being a thief and a robber.  You hate every one.  You are just, and always take your stand on your legal rights, and so you are always at law with the peasants and your neighbours.  You have had twenty bushels of rye stolen, and your love of order has made you complain of the peasants to the Governor and all the local authorities, and to send a complaint of the local authorities to Petersburg.  Legal justice!” said my wife, and she laughed.  “On the ground of your legal rights and in the interests of morality, you refuse to give me a passport.  Law and morality is such that a self-respecting healthy young woman has to spend her life in idleness, in depression, and in continual apprehension, and to receive in return board and lodging from a man she does not love.  You have a thorough knowledge of the law, you are very honest and just, you respect marriage and family life, and the effect of all that is that all your life you have not done one kind action, that every one hates you, that you are on bad terms with every one, and the seven years that you have been married you’ve only lived seven months with your wife.  You’ve had no wife and I’ve had no husband.  To live with a man like you is impossible; there is no way of doing it.  In the early years I was frightened with you, and now I am ashamed....  That’s how my best years have been wasted.  When I fought with you I ruined my temper, grew shrewish, coarse, timid, mistrustful....  Oh, but what’s the use of talking!  As though you wanted to understand!  Go upstairs, and God be with you!”

My wife lay down on the couch and sank into thought.

“And how splendid, how enviable life might have been!” she said softly, looking reflectively into the fire.  “What a life it might have been!  There’s no bringing it back now.”