He bows to her, he habitually addresses her as “my angel,” he carries his canaries to pay her little visits on his fingers and to sing to her, he kisses her hand when she gives him his cigarettes; he presents her with sugarplums in return, which he puts into her mouth playfully, from a box in his pocket. The rod of iron with which he rules her never appears in company⁠—it is a private rod, and is always kept upstairs.

His method of recommending himself to

me