He followed with even step, his gaze holding her as the eyes of a snake its victim. She would not let him know her terror of blindness. She preferred death a thousand times. If he would only kill her outright it was all the mercy she would ask.
“You—won't—kill—me—Jim!” she sobbed. “Please—please, don't kill me!”
He lifted his sharp finger and followed her toward the shed-room door, his voice the triumphant cry of an eagle above his prey.
“`FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE—UNTIL DEATH DO US PART!'”
Her heart gave a bound of cowardly joy. He had relented. He would not blind her. She could live. She was young and life was sweet.
She tried to smile her surrender through her tears as she backed slowly away from his ominous finger.
“Yes, I'll try—Jim. I'll try—`UNTIL DEATH DO US PART—UNTIL DEATH—UNTIL DEATH——'”
Her voice broke into a flood of tears as she blindly felt her way through the door and into the darkened room.
He paused on the threshold, held the creaking board shutter in his hand and broke into a laugh.
“The world ain't big enough for you to get away from me, Kiddo. Good night—a good little wife now and it's all right!”