Being in half a mind that this was a mistake and that it made no sense to be up so early, the lady opened the window onto this world. T H E H O U S E A N D T H E H A B I TS O F A N TO N Y
The Hussey residence formed part of a terrace of plain and hardly exceptional dwellings, and was marked out from all the others merely by a charming gutter and gates which sported a wrought-iron lock. This lock made a lot of noise when the gate was opened and closed with a key that was almost the size of an anchor. In all conscience Antony found it burdensome to carry this key around in his pocket and when he went out he used to leave the gate unlocked and his wife exposed to danger. Mrs Hussey was well acquainted with the habits of her husband and on this occasion, when she was of a mind to go out and discovered the gate unexpectedly locked, she pounded on it with her fists and exclaimed: 98
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“Ah the old fool, the silly ass, thinking he can lock me up and run riot without receiving his just deserts! Thinking he can shut me in and go gallivanting about all night long! Nay – even carnal knowledge is not beyond him. Because there’s one thing I’m sure of, that this loathsome man has found some wanton woman and she has come to an understanding with him. Of course! No doubt about it! This is the only way his godless approach to matrimony can be explained.” THE CURSE
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she was ready to leave. Catherine did not waste time looking for another key, because she was certain not to find it. She removed a flowerpot from the windowsill, climbed up and steeled herself to jump.
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“This accursed state of matrimony,” she said to herself, a fraction of her body finding space on the window sill, her legs hanging down, her dress a sad and pathetic sight as it spread itself loosely along the wall, “this accursed state has brought me nothing but injury and humiliation. Where men are concerned I could have taken my pick of the bunch, and just look at what I chose. This pileous primate, whose moustache sticks out like a weaver’s yardstick caught in the mouth of a roving dog. This nincompoop, who only loves to know his dinner’s waiting on a hot stove, this deflowerer foraging for foreign flora, though everything blooms for him at home!” From thoughts such as these Catherine received the impulse to action. She leapt down and despite the fact that the wall beneath was far from high, she landed on her hands. However the minor grazing which she received and instantly considered a calamity drove her to new heights of fury.
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