and finally, in his reflections as an ill-used man tied for life to a woman who knows not tact, mr. omicron asserted further that mrs. omicron only thought of spending and titivating herself. to assert that she only thought of spending did not satisfy his spleen; he must add “titivating herself.” he would admit, of course, that she did as a fact sometimes think of other matters, but still he would uphold the gravamen of his charge. and yet—excellent omicron!—you have but to look the truth in the face—as a plain common-sense man will—and to use your imagination, in order to perceive that there really is no gravamen in the charge.
why did you insist on marrying mrs. omicron? she had the reputation of being a good housekeeper (as girls go); she was a serious girl, kind-hearted, of irreproachable family, having agreeable financial expectations, clever, well-educated, good-tempered, pretty. but the truth is that you married her for none of these attributes. you married her because you were attracted to her; and what attracted you was a mysterious, never-to-be-defined quality about her—an effluence, an emanation, a lurking radiance, an entirely enigmatic charm. in the end “charm” is the one word that even roughly indicates that element in her personality which caused you to lose your head about her. a similar phenomenon is to be observed in all marriages of inclination. a similar phenomenon is at the bottom of most social movements. why, the men’s league for women’s suffrage itself certainly came into being through the strange workings of that same phenomenon! you married mrs. omicron doubtless because she was “suitable,” but her “suitability,” for you, consisted in the way she breathed, the way she crossed a room, a transient gesture, a vibration in her voice, a blush, a glance, the curve of an arm—nothing, nothing—and yet everything!
you may condescend towards this quality of hers, mr. omicron—you may try to dismiss it as “feminine charm,” and have done with it. but you cannot have done with it. and the fact will ever remain that you are incapable of supplying it yourself, with all your talents and your divine common sense. you are an extremely wise and good man, but you cannot ravish the senses of a roomful of people by merely walking downstairs, by merely throwing a shawl over your shoulders, by a curious depression in the corner of one cheek. this gift of grace is not yours. wise as you are, you will be still wiser if you do not treat it disdainfully. it is among the supreme things in the world. it has made a mighty lot of history, and not improbably will make some more—even yours.
you were not the only person aware of the formidable power (for formidable it was) which she possessed over you. she, too, was aware of it, and is still. she knows that when she exists in a particular way, she will produce in your existence a sensation which, though fleeting, you prefer to all other sensations—a sensation unique. and this quality by which she disturbs and enchants you is her main resource in the adventure of life. shall she not cherish this quality, adorn it, intensify it? on the contrary, you well know that you would be very upset and amazed if mrs. omicron were to show signs of neglecting this quality of hers which yearns for rings. and, if you have ever entered a necktie-shop and been dazzled by the spectacle of a fine necktie into “hanging expense”—if you have been through this wondrous experience, your imagination, duly prodded, will enable you to put yourself into mrs. omicron’s place when she mentions the subject of rings. “titivating herself?” good heavens, she is helping the very earth to revolve! and you smote the defenceless creature with a lethal word—because the butcher’s boy dallied at a street-corner!
you insinuate that one frail hand may carry too many rings. you reproduce your favourite word “moderation.” mr. omicron, i take you. i agree as to the danger. but if mrs. omicron is human, let us also bear in mind the profound truth that not one of us is more human than another.
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