The Noise of the World by Adriana Spadoni

There were times in the next month when Roger seriously considered going back into the law. He even went so far as looking up Walter Marsh, an old college chum with whom he had rather grown out of touch, now a very successful corporation lawyer. But at Marsh's hints that there was an opening with him if Roger cared to consider it, Roger always hurried away from further discussion. Nor did he tell Anne of these visits.

Anne never referred to his leaving Wainwright, nor did she ever again serve pot-roast. Apparently their method of life was unchanged. Roger could not put his finger on any one incident, recall a single allusion of Anne's, but he now felt encased in an atmosphere of watching, of tight guardedness, and of economical maneuverings. Outwardly Anne seemed as cheerful as ever, but Roger could feel unexpressed criticism moving shadow-like about him, and his nerves tightened. He often grew irritable and then desperately contrite. Irritation at this time was brutal, but Roger could not shake off the feeling of breathing imperceptible particles of objection. Sometimes he started to talk out their situation frankly, but it always ended in a fog. He felt as if he were beating with exaggerated violence in a cloud of dust. The air was full of minute, subtle differences, sudden closings of Anne's lips, sentences caught and deftly turned from their first intention; and of Anne's patience. This patience was the hardest to stand without reference.