It’s very difficult to talk to Riccardo about Mirella: when they’re together they’re like enemies. Maybe it’s always been that way, but until now I thought it was petty sibling spite. Now I’m afraid there’s some other reason, more profound, that I can’t define, and that grieves me deeply. I don’t want to think that Riccardo doesn’t love his sister; rather, it’s as if he poured out on her an animosity directed toward himself. Today he said that women take advantage of working to do as they like. I reminded him that I, too, work and that it was helpful for our family, including him. He replied that I do it only out of necessity, and therefore my work is a proof of solidarity with my husband, basically a proof of submission. He added that, if I could, I would do without it, and I don’t know what restraint, maybe the Saturday appointment, kept me from contradicting him.