I could not stand the look on her face.
“This is the only happiness I ever had,” she said, pressing the little body close to her.
I believed then that I could never do what I had planned. I knew I could never take Mary’s happiness away. I felt myself caught like a rat in a trap. The blood of my fathers was going on in a new house of flesh and bone! I had done the great crime! And there was no help for it!
We move, however, like puppets of the show. Just see!
Within a month the doctor at the clinic had said that my wife was incurable with consumption.
“The worst trouble with it all,” said he, “is that she will suffer without hope and for no purpose.”
“Death would be good luck?” said I.
“The kindest thing of all,” he answered, killing a fly on the window ledge, as if to demonstrate it.
I was trembling all over with wild nerves, a wild brain-madness. I shut my eyes craftily as I went down the steps.
“She may go first,” I whispered to myself. “I will kill her in the name of God. And then the other and the Devil is cheated!”