"Then I suppose I'll have to be there," said Jimmie sulkily: "But remember this—if I don't get a good eight hours' sleep, my brain don't work right. So if I'm not up to my usual standard, don't blame me."
He turned on his heel and was leaving the room when he bumped into his sister-in-law, who was just coming in.
"Good night, Virginia," he mumbled.
"Good night, Jimmie," she replied cordially.
He went out, closing the door behind him.
Chapter XV
As the door slammed, leaving her alone with her husband, Virginia felt herself grow hot and cold by turns. Desperate, she looked around to see if there was anywhere she could go, but there was no escape possible. Practically she was a prisoner, at the mercy of a man who, his worst instincts aroused by wine, was temporarily another being. His naturally generous impulses, his gentlemanly bearing, his kindly consideration for the weaker sex, all that was momentarily cast to the winds and like the savage beast, unaccustomed to control his appetites, he stopped at nothing in a wild, passionate madness to gratify his brutal desires.
It was horrible, revolting, yet what could she do? The law gave this man certain rights over her. Was not she herself largely to blame? Had she not sold herself to a man she did not love without even the excuse of necessity to sanction the disgraceful barter of flesh and honor? And what made it the more cruel was that gradually love had come into her life. Yes, she was sure of it now. In spite of his neglect, his indifference, she loved him and it was just because she loved him that it broke her heart to see him degrade his manhood.