Indeed, this can hardly be called guessing: the
evidence is in the streets. But when we attempt to find out the
truth about our marriages, we cannot even guess with any
confidence. Speaking for myself, I can say that I know the inside
history of perhaps half a dozen marriages. Any family solicitor
knows more than this; but even a family solicitor, however large
his practice, knows nothing of the million households which have
no solicitors, and which nevertheless make marriage what it really
is. And all he can say comes to no more than I can say: to wit,
that no marriage of which I have any knowledge is in the least
like the ideal marriage. I do not mean that it is worse: I mean
simply that it is different. Also, far from society being
organized in a defence of its ideal so jealous and implacable that
the least step from the straight path means exposure and ruin, it
is almost impossible by any extravagance of misconduct to provoke
society to relax its steady pretence of blindness, unless you do
one or both of two fatal things. One is to get into the
newspapers; and the other is to confess. If you confess misconduct
to respectable men or women, they must either disown you or become
virtually your accomplices: that is why they are so angry with you
for confessing.
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