Wichita eagle., 1889-12-21
WHY HE MARRIED.


.an easily conceive that you cannot. You
think that am going madl Perhaps may
bs, little, but not for the reasons that you
suppose.
\ es, am about to marry.
And yet my ideas and convictions have not
changed. / consider the legal union an alb
surdity. | am convinced that eight mar
rieges in ten are failures Less than ever do
feel myself capable of faithfully loving one
woman shall always love al the others
too well.
would have thousand lips, thousand
arms, that might embrace at once an army
OF the charming creatures.
And yet / am about to marry.
/ may add that | have but a slight ac-
quaintance with my wife of tomorrow l
know that she is not displeasing to me, and
that is sufficient for my purpose.
She is-petite, blonde and plump. But next
week shall long for a woman who is tall
dark and thin.
She is not rich. She does not belong to a
family rank. She is one of those girls to be
found by the gross in the middle classes, good
girls to marry, with neither virtues rer
faults
People say of her: "Miss So-and-So is very
pretty" They will say of her tomorrow:
''She IS extremely pretty, that Mrs. Blank"
Why, then, do marry, you ask?
/ scarcely dare avow to you the strange
and incredible reason which impels me to this
sepseless act
marry that may not be alone.
know not how to say it, how to make my
self understood. You would pity me and de-
spise me, so deplorable is my state of mind
do not want to be alone at night. want
to feel human being near me, beside me-a
being which can speak, say something, no
matter what
Some one whom | can waken from slumber
and question abruptly-any foolish question
only TO hear a voice, to feel that my rooms
are inhabited, to feel consciousness on the
alert, reason at work, to see on suddenly
lighting my candle, human form at my
side e-because-because-it is hard to &C
knowledge it-because, alone, am afraid.
Ohl you do not yet comprehend me.
am not afraid of danger. IL burglar
entered my room, would kill him without
tremor. am not afraid of ghosts. / do not
believe in the supernatural l am not afraid
of the dead. / believe in the total annihila-
ton of every being which disappears.
Well, am afraid of myself! am afraid
of fear, afraid of my warning intellect, afraid
of this horrible sensation of incomprehensible
terror. Laugh, if you will 1t is frightful,
incurable. | am afraid of the walls, of the
furniture, of the familiar objects which be-
come instinct for me with a sort of animal
life. / am afraid, above all, of the horrible
agitation of my thoughts, of my senses, which
escape me in confusion, scattered by my an
guish, mysterious and indefrable
| experience, first, vague inquietude
which penetrates to my very soul and causes
a snudder to run through me. Hook around
me- Ncthingi And | desire that there
should be something. What? Something
comprehensive! For am afraid solely be-
cause cannot comprehend my fear
speak. am afraid of my voice. Iwalk
am afraid of the unknown behind the door,
behind the curtains, in the closet, under the
bed. And yet | know that there is nothing
i turn suddenly, afraid of what is behind
me--though there is nothing there, and /
know it. / grow agitated, feel my terror
increase, and | lock myself in my chamber
and plunge into bed and hide under the cover
erings and, covering there, rolled up like a |
bali, l close my eyes in desperation, and re-
main thus for an endless time, knowing that |
my candle, left burning on my night table,
ought to be put out-and dare not do it.
Is it not frightful TO be thus?
Formerly, Experienced nothing of all that. |
| entered calmly. | went and came in my |
rooms, with nothing to disturb the serenity |
of my mind If any one had told me then |
what a malady of fear-incredible, foolish |
and terrible-would ore day possess ME, | |
should have laughed <rtily opened the |
doors in the dark wit france | undressed |
slowly, without pushing the bolts, and l never !
arose in the middle of the night to make sure |
that the doors and windows were securely |
1t began last year in a singular manner. 1t |
was on a damp autumn night
1t was dreary everywhere The wet side
walks glistened A moist warmth, of the sort !
which freezes you with sudden chills-an op-
pressive warmth Of tine, impalpable rain en-
veloped the street and seemed to lessen and
obscure the flame of the gas. | walked SLOW
IL, repeating to myself as | went: Il shall
find no one to talk to-"
For blocks and blocks | searched the cafes
The tired looking men sitting at the tables
appeared too liStless to finish their repasts.
wandered about thus for some time, and
toward midnight started homeward | was
calm but very tired
My conci-'-e. who retires before II o'clock,
opened the door for mo at once, contrary to
his usual habit. | thought: Doubtless an
other lodyer has just gone up"
On going out always double lock my door
found it simply latched. fact which struck
ne. | supposed letters he'd been sent I'D
turing the evening entered Tle fire was