Commonplace 59 George & His Alter Ego: Bad George Gissing PART FOUR - More of Anthony West's version of George's life.
We have been looking at the biography of HG Wells written by his son Anthony West - HG Wells: Aspects of a Life. HG was George's best friend for the last several years of his life, but had to review his opinion of George when he found out some pretty horrible things about our man, first from Frederic Harrison, and then from Morley Roberts - both of whom had known George from way back when.
First, Frederic Harrison. George's old employer and sometime friend - contacted HG for information about reports of George's death, after he received a mourning card from Gabrielle. HG and Harrison compared notes - in Commonplace 58, we saw how Frederic Harrison filled HG in on some of George's darker secrets. Here is Anthony West's account of what HG was told by Harrison. This is the version Anthony said Fred Harrison was told by George, himself. It is the only account we have of the Owens incident that purports to come directly from George. Direct quotes from the book are in blue.
One day when George was working as a tutor to the Harrison boys, a former Owens student turned up and recognized him and then told Fredric Harrison about the thefts and the subsequent prison career. When Harrison asked George if it were true, he admitted it and explained it like this:
When he was in his seventeenth year, he had said, he had fallen in love with a light-hearted girl very close to his own age who had allowed him to pick her up in the street. It had not taken him long to realise that this was not her first such adventure, and that she had innocently embarked on a course that could only become a steady drift into outright prostitution if someone didn't take charge of her. He had liked her too well to find the prospect bearable and had set out to save her from it by taking her into his own keeping - he hadn't had the wit or the experience to know that the allowance that his widowed mother was giving him, though generous enough, in relation to the needs of a bachelor student living in digs on his own was nothing like enough for a couple to live on - especially if one of the pair liked to drink and have a good time. He hadn't realised until late in the day, that the girl liked drink more than she liked men, and when he did come to that understanding he was already in deep trouble because love had come into the picture. He hadn't wanted to face the truth about the girl or about his situation, or to admit to himself that it was beyond his power to break with her. He had done his best to pretend things might come out all right if he could, somehow or other, just keep going for a few more weeks, or a few more days. Under that pathetic illusion he'd resorted to the desperate shift of stealing. He'd begun by lifting anything pawnable that he could find lying about the college looking ownerless, and had ended by dipping into the pockets of clothes left hanging in the changing rooms in the hope of finding money. The college were soon told a thief was working the place, a trap was set by the police at their request, and Gissing was caught.
Points to consider:
1) George makes it clear he was saving Marianne aka Nell from descending into prostitution - he is not saying she was a working girl. Remember this for later when we look at Morley Roberts' version of this part of George's life, in Commonplace 60.
2) George was not poor at Owens. He won money from his literary competitions and indeed, made enemies because of it - he was only in it for the money was a claim made against him at the time. If he teamed up with Marianne to share expenses, he will have used her income from the needlework she did - remember, he is supposed to have bought her a sewing machine which will not have been used for fun. My own view is that he stole because he could get away with it, he was under the illusion he was smarter than his peers and so would not get caught - but he obviously didn't factor in the low animal cunning of the average working class police detective, miles more intelligent than any undergraduate haha. I mentioned in Commonplace 26 that George was a masochist by nature - stealing and then wallowing in guilt before rationalising and justifying his actions would fit this personality type to a T. We know George often did bad things then much later gave good reasons why he did them.
Anthony says that, on release from prison, Henry Hick's father found George work in Liverpool but he hadn't liked it and soon George made up his mind to go to the USA. As success in the States eluded him, he borrowed money from Algernon and returned home - to be with Marianne.
Gissing had been disingenuous in his account of what had followed. With an air of generosity he told Harrison that none of it had been the girl's fault. It could not be said that she had been bad, it was that she had been ignorant, foolish, wilful, and disobedient. And she was a drunk - once she started drinking there was no way of controlling her, and if she was denied money with which to buy liquor when the fit was on her, she would go back to the street. She would do anything, no matter what, to get the drink she had to have. And when her bout was over she would become herself again, to tell him remorsefully that he had seen her drunk for the last time, and beg him to give her another chance. He knew, even as forgave her, that it was not in her power to keep any such promise, but he could not bring himself to turn her off, and each time he would forgive her. The worst of it all was she didn't really like him very much. He was the wrong sort for her, and she took what little pleasure she had from keeping low, boisterous company. He knew what he should do in common prudence, but he had married her, and he couldn't bring himself to turn his back on someone he had promised to love and cherish. The Harrisons had taken this at its face value and had believed that Gissing was doing his innocent best to save a dreadful woman from herself.
Points to consider:
1) 'ignorant, foolish, wilful, and disobedient' was exactly how he described Edith.
2) A woman driven to alcoholism in Victorian melodramas is such a cliche! In order to present her as deserving of his cruel treatment, and to justify abandoning her, George had to present Marianne as a wretch who was beyond the pale. If she was such a drunk when he met her... she would have been about 16 when she met him, so will have had to put in some pretty hefty drinking binges to become dependent on alcohol. Could she have afforded this level of boozing, being as how she was a needleworker? Had she lived long enough to become so damaged by drink? This theory that she was a drunk is riddled with illogical holes - and none of the subsequent records substantiate the claims. See Commonplaces 32-34 for a deeper exploration of the lack of evidence for it.
3) The phrase 'but he had married her, and he couldn't bring himself to turn his back on someone he had promised to love and cherish' is beneath contempt as George Gissing abandoned two wives and two children for his own selfish reasons and didn't honour any of his marriage vows. Especially the 'in sickness and in health' one.
4) Nothing in the Collected Letters - particularly those between George and his two brothers - supports George's contention here that Marianne was a drunk.
Anthony tells us the Harrisons were supportive and kept encouraging George to bear his burden, and George ...rewarded them by keeping them abreast of the developing story of the marriage. But he had made sure that they never met his wife. Before long he was telling them that she had taken to brawling in public places when 'under the influence', and, not much later, that he had been forced to have her shut up in a home for inebriates in Battersea. The storyline up to that point had been simplicity itself, but it now took an incomprehensible turn. Gissing told the Harrisons that his wife had escaped from the home, and had come back to him. She had talked him into a resumption of marital relations. Gissing saw that the Harrisons had found it difficult to swallow this one, and seemed to realise he had gone too far. But his interest in his game with them began to flag, and his next instalment was slackly invented: he had lost touch with his wife, he told them, she had taken herself off and he had no idea where she had gone.
Points to consider:
1) Isolating his first two wives from his social set was how George maintained control over them. How demoralising it would be to be made aware you were such an inferior, your husband wouldn't want you meeting his friends! And, by keeping these two women locked away, no-one would be able to judge him by how he treated them - which was appallingly. This ensured the version his peers had of him was managed by George himself, and not the product of their independent thinking processes.
2) Marianne was not institutionalised in a home for inebriates in Battersea - if George told Harrison this, he was lying. I suspect he was trying to get her institutionalised much as he succeeded with Edith (thanks to his minions' handiwork) - and I suggest in Commonplace 37 that he even considered a home for Marianne in Scotland, just after the incident with the police detective in 1883. Not because he cared, but to get her as far as he could away from him. It is possible he tried to use her epilepsy as justification for having her 'put away' in single patient care - as in, the various lodgings he rented for her being used as mini mental institutions.
3) Harrison is right to smell a rat with George's account of Marianne running off, getting drunk and then coming back begging for forgiveness. Nothing in the letters he wrote to Algernon describe this. The absences from home - until it is clear he has made her know he does not want her any more - are down to her many illness-related hospital trips and periods of convalescence. He insisted she leave the house and he rationalised by saying he couldn't work with her competing for his attention and time by needing him to care for her. It is worth noting there is nothing in the letters that refers to Marianne drinking - there is one mention of George finding an empty gin bottle and then, when he wants her character blackened, he starts to say she is mixing with women who drink - even then, he does not say Marianne is drunk!
4) Marianne was forced to leave the marital home because George did not want her there - he did everything he could to discourage her from cohabiting with him. He forced her to live in situations where she was not happy, and then threatened to withdraw the alimony or reduce it substantially, if she failed to comply. As he was legally obliged to pay her alimony, he is not entitled to any moral high ground such as is given him by some biographers. He had abandoned her, and he could have been taken to court over it - and he would have lost! Even if she left him, he would have been forced to pay - as per the law in the 1880s.
5) George always knew where Marianne was because he paid her alimony every week - and I suspect for some time after their final split he saw her regularly (possibly for sex), but then withdrew contact, possibly as her illness worsened and her appearance suffered.
Anthony says the story Harrison was told was left at this for a year or so, then George brought up the subject of his wife again. A police inspector had visited to tell him she had been involved in a closing-time brawl outside a public house and that she was now known to the force as a common prostitute. In the circumstances, the friendly officer said he would be well advised to institute divorce proceedings: the magistrates came down very hard on men who had come under suspicion of living on the immoral earnings of their wives. George, HG was told by Frederic Harrison, hired a private detective for two weeks, but he could not move towards a divorce because the detective had seen nothing that could by any stretch of the imagination have been interpreted as evidence of misconduct. (If you want to read my posts on this incident, cancel all calls and appointments and turn to Commonplaces 35, 36 and 37.) It was this small point that had made Harrison, whose confidence in Gissing had been slowly oozing away, lose faith in him altogether. The detective's report was simply unbelievable if the woman was really earning her living as a streetwalker.
This version is at variance with the letter of September 24th 1883 that George wrote to Algernon: 'I have very loathsome matters to write to you about. I address you as my legal advisor. Bad as they are, they may prove the beginning of a day of freedom for me.
Points to consider:
1) You will see that, in the original letter version, Marianne was assaulted - she was not 'involved in a brawl'.
2) There is no mention of her being outside a public house in the letter. Did George make up this detail to win Harrison's sympathy and poison him against Marianne, by implying she was a drunk? After all, he wanted Harrison to endorse the divorce notion (which is reminiscent of him imagining Henry Hick suggested he divorce Edith (see Commonplace 57).
3) The detective's report was simply unbelievable if the woman was really earning her living as a streetwalker - as I have always said, myself.
George then gave up on mentioning Marianne until he announced news she had died, and that he had saved her from the disgrace of being buried in a communal grave as a pauper by having her put away at his own expense. Harrison fast forwarded his tale to the famous reply George gave to an invite to a dinner.. Gissing's reply informed them that he had given up attending that kind of function. He was no longer living in London, and he was systematically breaking off all his links with educated and monied people... In future he was going to limit himself ... to the lower social level on which he belonged (HG Wells??) . He had found a girl of the artisanal class who was willing to face life with him on the sort of money that was all that he seemed to be able to earn, and he had been married to her for some months. Anthony then goes on to say Frederic Harrison claimed Edith was fourteen when she married George - but we know this isn't true. But, he hinted at more even darker dark secrets - and directed HG in the direction of Morley Roberts for more of that. Morley Roberts was at Owens with George, and so knew him well, HG was told.
Points to consider:
1) In fact, Marianne did not qualify for a pauper's grave as she was married and her husband had means enough to pay for a burial. Again, George claims to be the hero - still, I suppose some might say if he kept claiming he was heroic, why, then it must be true haha.
2) George moved to Exeter to make sure Edith lost contact with her family and her social group. He was horrified one day when her brother visited unexpectedly because the family were worried about her. This was early on in the marriage - had she written to them about how miserable she was, and how lonely?
Now, we must remind ourselves that this information exchange between HG and Frederic Harrison happened in 1903 - in the months soon after George's sad death. HG Wells felt (rightly) he had let George down at the end, and he hoped to do some sort of penance by: 1) helping to secure a pension for Walter and Alfred; 2) adding to the Gissing boys' inherited wealth by making Veranilda marketable. He would do this by writing an extended introduction, hoping to sell more copies of George's last book by attaching the Wells (very popular man of the moment) name to it, and hopefully, get people to read the Gissing back catalogue as well. HG had already written a glowing report to Edmund Gosse (to pass on to the prime minister) saying what a good fellow George was, slightly misguided and naive but, deep down sound as a pound.
At the time he wrote the rough draft , he was almost sure it was all true. He consciously employed a certain amount of creative flair, but he was trying to secure that pension and royalties for the boys to see them get a decent education. He did not give a full and honest account because he was doing a favour for a friend - though it was the sort of 'jobbery' George said he despised (!). But, after Harrison gave him the deeply unsettling version, HG wanted to write a more authentic account for the Veranilda introduction. It was with this in mind that he sought out Morley Roberts. (You might recall, much later - 1912 - Roberts was to produce his own account of George's life in 'The Private Life of Henry Maitland'.) Anthony West has some very interesting things to say about Roberts' version of George's life, which is of huge interest to us, because it varies from the version Roberts subsequently offered up in Maitland. Remember, many Gissing biographers rely on Roberts when they want to portray George as a victim of circumstance - whilst deriding Roberts as a fantasist literary wannabe getting fame on a greater writer's reputation. These biographers cherry pick details from Maitland to support their contentions that George couldn't help himself at Owens - him stealing was all Marianne's fault because she was a drunken whore who did her best to ruin his life but he heroically rose above it to reinvent himself as a flawed genius. Guffaw!
Anthony writes: To say my father was upset by what Roberts presently told him about the first marriage and its origins is to put the matter mildly.
JOIN ME IN COMMONPLACE 60 - FOR PART FIVE AND WHAT MORLEY ROBERTS REALLY SAID ABOUT GEORGE AND MARIANNE. AND SYPHILIS.
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| The Witches' Sabbath by Francisco Goya 1798 |
First, Frederic Harrison. George's old employer and sometime friend - contacted HG for information about reports of George's death, after he received a mourning card from Gabrielle. HG and Harrison compared notes - in Commonplace 58, we saw how Frederic Harrison filled HG in on some of George's darker secrets. Here is Anthony West's account of what HG was told by Harrison. This is the version Anthony said Fred Harrison was told by George, himself. It is the only account we have of the Owens incident that purports to come directly from George. Direct quotes from the book are in blue.
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| Mrs Luke Ionides by William Blake Richmond 1882 |
When he was in his seventeenth year, he had said, he had fallen in love with a light-hearted girl very close to his own age who had allowed him to pick her up in the street. It had not taken him long to realise that this was not her first such adventure, and that she had innocently embarked on a course that could only become a steady drift into outright prostitution if someone didn't take charge of her. He had liked her too well to find the prospect bearable and had set out to save her from it by taking her into his own keeping - he hadn't had the wit or the experience to know that the allowance that his widowed mother was giving him, though generous enough, in relation to the needs of a bachelor student living in digs on his own was nothing like enough for a couple to live on - especially if one of the pair liked to drink and have a good time. He hadn't realised until late in the day, that the girl liked drink more than she liked men, and when he did come to that understanding he was already in deep trouble because love had come into the picture. He hadn't wanted to face the truth about the girl or about his situation, or to admit to himself that it was beyond his power to break with her. He had done his best to pretend things might come out all right if he could, somehow or other, just keep going for a few more weeks, or a few more days. Under that pathetic illusion he'd resorted to the desperate shift of stealing. He'd begun by lifting anything pawnable that he could find lying about the college looking ownerless, and had ended by dipping into the pockets of clothes left hanging in the changing rooms in the hope of finding money. The college were soon told a thief was working the place, a trap was set by the police at their request, and Gissing was caught.
Points to consider:
1) George makes it clear he was saving Marianne aka Nell from descending into prostitution - he is not saying she was a working girl. Remember this for later when we look at Morley Roberts' version of this part of George's life, in Commonplace 60.
2) George was not poor at Owens. He won money from his literary competitions and indeed, made enemies because of it - he was only in it for the money was a claim made against him at the time. If he teamed up with Marianne to share expenses, he will have used her income from the needlework she did - remember, he is supposed to have bought her a sewing machine which will not have been used for fun. My own view is that he stole because he could get away with it, he was under the illusion he was smarter than his peers and so would not get caught - but he obviously didn't factor in the low animal cunning of the average working class police detective, miles more intelligent than any undergraduate haha. I mentioned in Commonplace 26 that George was a masochist by nature - stealing and then wallowing in guilt before rationalising and justifying his actions would fit this personality type to a T. We know George often did bad things then much later gave good reasons why he did them.
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| Portrait of a Young Merchant by Hans Holbein 1541 |
Anthony says that, on release from prison, Henry Hick's father found George work in Liverpool but he hadn't liked it and soon George made up his mind to go to the USA. As success in the States eluded him, he borrowed money from Algernon and returned home - to be with Marianne.
Gissing had been disingenuous in his account of what had followed. With an air of generosity he told Harrison that none of it had been the girl's fault. It could not be said that she had been bad, it was that she had been ignorant, foolish, wilful, and disobedient. And she was a drunk - once she started drinking there was no way of controlling her, and if she was denied money with which to buy liquor when the fit was on her, she would go back to the street. She would do anything, no matter what, to get the drink she had to have. And when her bout was over she would become herself again, to tell him remorsefully that he had seen her drunk for the last time, and beg him to give her another chance. He knew, even as forgave her, that it was not in her power to keep any such promise, but he could not bring himself to turn her off, and each time he would forgive her. The worst of it all was she didn't really like him very much. He was the wrong sort for her, and she took what little pleasure she had from keeping low, boisterous company. He knew what he should do in common prudence, but he had married her, and he couldn't bring himself to turn his back on someone he had promised to love and cherish. The Harrisons had taken this at its face value and had believed that Gissing was doing his innocent best to save a dreadful woman from herself.
Points to consider:
1) 'ignorant, foolish, wilful, and disobedient' was exactly how he described Edith.
2) A woman driven to alcoholism in Victorian melodramas is such a cliche! In order to present her as deserving of his cruel treatment, and to justify abandoning her, George had to present Marianne as a wretch who was beyond the pale. If she was such a drunk when he met her... she would have been about 16 when she met him, so will have had to put in some pretty hefty drinking binges to become dependent on alcohol. Could she have afforded this level of boozing, being as how she was a needleworker? Had she lived long enough to become so damaged by drink? This theory that she was a drunk is riddled with illogical holes - and none of the subsequent records substantiate the claims. See Commonplaces 32-34 for a deeper exploration of the lack of evidence for it.
3) The phrase 'but he had married her, and he couldn't bring himself to turn his back on someone he had promised to love and cherish' is beneath contempt as George Gissing abandoned two wives and two children for his own selfish reasons and didn't honour any of his marriage vows. Especially the 'in sickness and in health' one.
4) Nothing in the Collected Letters - particularly those between George and his two brothers - supports George's contention here that Marianne was a drunk.
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| Mata Mua by Paul Gauguin 1892 |
Points to consider:
1) Isolating his first two wives from his social set was how George maintained control over them. How demoralising it would be to be made aware you were such an inferior, your husband wouldn't want you meeting his friends! And, by keeping these two women locked away, no-one would be able to judge him by how he treated them - which was appallingly. This ensured the version his peers had of him was managed by George himself, and not the product of their independent thinking processes.
2) Marianne was not institutionalised in a home for inebriates in Battersea - if George told Harrison this, he was lying. I suspect he was trying to get her institutionalised much as he succeeded with Edith (thanks to his minions' handiwork) - and I suggest in Commonplace 37 that he even considered a home for Marianne in Scotland, just after the incident with the police detective in 1883. Not because he cared, but to get her as far as he could away from him. It is possible he tried to use her epilepsy as justification for having her 'put away' in single patient care - as in, the various lodgings he rented for her being used as mini mental institutions.
3) Harrison is right to smell a rat with George's account of Marianne running off, getting drunk and then coming back begging for forgiveness. Nothing in the letters he wrote to Algernon describe this. The absences from home - until it is clear he has made her know he does not want her any more - are down to her many illness-related hospital trips and periods of convalescence. He insisted she leave the house and he rationalised by saying he couldn't work with her competing for his attention and time by needing him to care for her. It is worth noting there is nothing in the letters that refers to Marianne drinking - there is one mention of George finding an empty gin bottle and then, when he wants her character blackened, he starts to say she is mixing with women who drink - even then, he does not say Marianne is drunk!
4) Marianne was forced to leave the marital home because George did not want her there - he did everything he could to discourage her from cohabiting with him. He forced her to live in situations where she was not happy, and then threatened to withdraw the alimony or reduce it substantially, if she failed to comply. As he was legally obliged to pay her alimony, he is not entitled to any moral high ground such as is given him by some biographers. He had abandoned her, and he could have been taken to court over it - and he would have lost! Even if she left him, he would have been forced to pay - as per the law in the 1880s.
5) George always knew where Marianne was because he paid her alimony every week - and I suspect for some time after their final split he saw her regularly (possibly for sex), but then withdrew contact, possibly as her illness worsened and her appearance suffered.
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| Constable Fitzpatrick and Kate Kelly by Sidney Nolan 1946 |
This version is at variance with the letter of September 24th 1883 that George wrote to Algernon: 'I have very loathsome matters to write to you about. I address you as my legal advisor. Bad as they are, they may prove the beginning of a day of freedom for me.
I was visited this evening by a sergeant of police, who informed me that my wife had preferred a charge of criminal assault against three men, two of whom had been taken into custody, - the other escaping. These two were remanded until next Thursday. He came to ask me what light I could throw upon the prosecutor's character.
As it proved, the light came rather from him. He told me she was described in the neighbourhood, as an habitual drunkard, well known in all public-houses, & generally regarded as in all respects a bad character. The assault took place at 1.30 am., in a place where business could not possibly have taken her. At the station she wished to back out of the charge; but of course was not allowed to. The officer told me he very much doubted her innocence. In any case, her bad character will go against her. Either the men will be discharged on Thursday, or committed. Of course the case will be in the papers.
Now, you see what all this points to. I think there is little doubt that the man called on me in the idea that I might employ him to collect evidence, with view to a divorce. He smiled at my folly in allowing her a pound a week. Doubtless he will call on me again, &, if he does, I shall certainly make enquiries to see whether I can afford to employ him. He said that he thought the matter would not be very difficult.'
1) You will see that, in the original letter version, Marianne was assaulted - she was not 'involved in a brawl'.
2) There is no mention of her being outside a public house in the letter. Did George make up this detail to win Harrison's sympathy and poison him against Marianne, by implying she was a drunk? After all, he wanted Harrison to endorse the divorce notion (which is reminiscent of him imagining Henry Hick suggested he divorce Edith (see Commonplace 57).
3) The detective's report was simply unbelievable if the woman was really earning her living as a streetwalker - as I have always said, myself.
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| Floating Iceberg by Frederick Church 1859 |
Points to consider:
1) In fact, Marianne did not qualify for a pauper's grave as she was married and her husband had means enough to pay for a burial. Again, George claims to be the hero - still, I suppose some might say if he kept claiming he was heroic, why, then it must be true haha.
2) George moved to Exeter to make sure Edith lost contact with her family and her social group. He was horrified one day when her brother visited unexpectedly because the family were worried about her. This was early on in the marriage - had she written to them about how miserable she was, and how lonely?
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| Cat on a Clothesline by Jeff Koons 1994-2001 |
Now, we must remind ourselves that this information exchange between HG and Frederic Harrison happened in 1903 - in the months soon after George's sad death. HG Wells felt (rightly) he had let George down at the end, and he hoped to do some sort of penance by: 1) helping to secure a pension for Walter and Alfred; 2) adding to the Gissing boys' inherited wealth by making Veranilda marketable. He would do this by writing an extended introduction, hoping to sell more copies of George's last book by attaching the Wells (very popular man of the moment) name to it, and hopefully, get people to read the Gissing back catalogue as well. HG had already written a glowing report to Edmund Gosse (to pass on to the prime minister) saying what a good fellow George was, slightly misguided and naive but, deep down sound as a pound.
At the time he wrote the rough draft , he was almost sure it was all true. He consciously employed a certain amount of creative flair, but he was trying to secure that pension and royalties for the boys to see them get a decent education. He did not give a full and honest account because he was doing a favour for a friend - though it was the sort of 'jobbery' George said he despised (!). But, after Harrison gave him the deeply unsettling version, HG wanted to write a more authentic account for the Veranilda introduction. It was with this in mind that he sought out Morley Roberts. (You might recall, much later - 1912 - Roberts was to produce his own account of George's life in 'The Private Life of Henry Maitland'.) Anthony West has some very interesting things to say about Roberts' version of George's life, which is of huge interest to us, because it varies from the version Roberts subsequently offered up in Maitland. Remember, many Gissing biographers rely on Roberts when they want to portray George as a victim of circumstance - whilst deriding Roberts as a fantasist literary wannabe getting fame on a greater writer's reputation. These biographers cherry pick details from Maitland to support their contentions that George couldn't help himself at Owens - him stealing was all Marianne's fault because she was a drunken whore who did her best to ruin his life but he heroically rose above it to reinvent himself as a flawed genius. Guffaw!
Anthony writes: To say my father was upset by what Roberts presently told him about the first marriage and its origins is to put the matter mildly.
JOIN ME IN COMMONPLACE 60 - FOR PART FIVE AND WHAT MORLEY ROBERTS REALLY SAID ABOUT GEORGE AND MARIANNE. AND SYPHILIS.
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