The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. You will be—my wife. It fell to the ground and smoked ominously. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her. I saw him ride away with that other fellow. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. “The horse’s knees are broken, and I am not sure that the man is sober. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance.
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