In the moment, by the very fact, of admitting that Monica and he ought not to be living together, he became more worthy of his wife's companionship than ever hitherto.
Well, he would exercise greater forebearance.

He would endeavour to win her respect by respecting the freedom she claimed.

His recent suspicions of her were monstrous.

If she knew them, how her soul would revolt from him! What if she took an interest in other men, perchance more her equals than he?
Why, had he not just been thinking of another woman, reflecting that she, or one like her, would have made him a more suitable wife than Monica?
Yet this could not reasonably be called unfaithfulness.
They were bound together for life, and their wisdom lay in mutual toleration, the constant endeavour to understand each other aright--not in fierce restraint of each other's mental liberty.

How many marriages were anything more than mutual forbearance?
Perhaps there ought not to be such a thing as enforced permanence of marriage.