Being a good looking girl, educated up to a certain point, and with pleasant ways—the kind of ways a man would look for in a girl if he was selecting a wife—she had no trouble in attaching to herself a young fellow who was a good mate for her. She let it be understood at the start that he was to belong to her and that he was to be at her beck and call. She wanted to revel in the joys of complete ownership.
He was willing enough, and in fact it rather suited him, because he came into immediate possession of a wife, a home and income.
It is to be supposed there was some affection in the case, for it wasn’t a cold business proposition. It was bad enough, even from the best side, but she liked him in a way—you can put the word love in here if you like—but I am of the opinion that her feeling was that of a dog-like devotion, and his was one of knowing a good thing when he saw it.
But she was jealous, too.
“If I see you speaking to any of the other girls,” she said to him once, “I will leave you right away.”
That was in the early stages, and now notice how a woman’s affection shifts.
“If you flirt with any of those girls I will kill myself,” she said six months later.
First she would leave him and then she would kill herself.
That brings the tragedy to the last stage.
“I will kill you.”