328
PARTISAN REVIEW
about her husband's head .and tear it off, but with no more effect
than
if
she had attempted to seize a ray of sunlight between her fin–
gers. Encircling the forehead at the hairline, it came down well over
the nape of the neck behind, while a slight tilt over the right ear gave
it a somewhat jaunty air. Nothing she could do would alter its angle
or move it by so much as an inch.
Duperrier, despite this foretaste of beatitude, showed a natural
concern for his wife's serenity. He himself was too discreet and
modest a man not to find her fears legitimate. God's favors, espec–
ially when they seem to be somewhat gratuitous, are seldom ac–
corded the consideration they merit, and the world is inclined to look
upon them as not quite decent and proper. Duperrier, in all circum–
stances, did whatever he could to make himself inconspicuous. Regret–
fully he gave up wearing the bowler hat which had seemed a neces–
sary attribute of his profession of bookkeeper, and in its stead chose
a light-colored felt with a wide brim which he wore, like the halo,
nonchalantly on the back of the head. Thus no sign of the halo
was visible from the outside; as for the phosphorescent glint on the
underside, this could easily pass for the sheen of a silky felt. Thus
bedecked, Duperrier avoided attracting the attention of his fellow
employees and office manager. In the small factory in Menilmontant
where he worked he occupied, alone, a glass-partitioned cubicle with
workrooms on either side. All had become used to his keeping his hat
on and no one had the curiosity to ask the reason why.
But all these precautions could not allay his wife's uneasiness.
It seemed to her that Duperrier's halo had already become a
subject of conversation among the neighborhood gossips. She no
longer felt free to come and go as she pleased in the vicinity of the
rue Gabrielle, and wherever she went her heart and loins were tense
with apprehension. She even imagined that ripples of laughter fol–
lowed her as she passed. Indeed, for a nice, respectable woman with
no other social ambition than to rank with the cult-of-the-middle-way
class, a singularity as flagrant as that which afflicted Duperrier
took on the proportions of a catastrophe. By its very absurdity it
turned into something monstrous. Nothing could persuade her to
accompany her husband out of doors. Evenings and Sunday after–
noons formerly devoted to some pleasant outing or to visiting friends
were now spent at home, in an intimacy which daily became more
