“Yes, you too. Your wildly extravagant spending sprees have been a major contributor to our downfall; and since I’ve denied you nothing and still deny you nothing, I take full responsibility. And if that’s what you’re throwing in my face, then I agree.”

Augusta gave an angry shrug and shot Vasconcelos a look of such scorn that it would have been valid grounds for divorce.

Vasconcelos saw the shrug and the look.

“A love of luxury and excess,” he said, “will always have the same consequences, which are terrible, but perfectly understandable. The only way of avoiding them is to live more moderately, but that never even occurred to you. After six months of married life, you plunged into the whirlwind of fashion, and your little stream of expenditures became a vast river of profligacy. Do you know what my brother said to me once? He said that the reason you sent Adelaide off to the country was so that you would be free to live with no obligations of any kind.”

Augusta had stood up and taken a few steps across the room; she was pale and trembling.

Vasconcelos was continuing this litany of recriminations, when his wife interrupted him, saying:

“And why did you not put a stop to my extravagance?”

“For the sake of domestic harmony.”

“Lies!” she cried. “You wanted to live a free and independent life. Seeing me embarking on that life of excess, you thought you could buy my tolerance of your behavior by tolerating mine. That was the only reason. The way you live may be different from mine, but it’s far worse. I may have squandered money at home, but you did the same out in the street. There’s no point denying it, because I know everything; I know all the names of the succession of rivals you’ve given me, and I never said a word, and I’m not censuring you now, that would be pointless and too late.”

The situation had changed. Vasconcelos had begun as judge and ended up as codefendant. It was impossible to deny, and arguing was risky and futile. He preferred to appear reasonable, even cajoling.

“Given the facts (and I accept that you’re right), we are clearly both to blame, and I see no reason to lay all the blame on me. I should rebuild our fortune, I agree. And one way of doing that is to marry Adelaide off to Gomes.”

“No,” said Augusta.

“Fine, then, we’ll be poor and even worse off than we are now; we’ll sell everything . . .”

“Forgive me,” said Augusta, “but I don’t understand why you, a strong young man, who clearly played the larger role in bringing about this disaster, cannot throw yourself into rebuilding our squandered fortune.”