I
looked to my cooking, and I knew that it was as good as ever. I thought
of my clothes, and how I did my hair, and asked myself if I was as fresh
to see as when Dennis first came to me. I could see no difference. There
was a clear pool not far away under the little hills where the springs
came together. I used to bathe in it every morning and dry myself in the
sun; and my body was like a child's. That being so, should my own man
turn his head away from me day or night? What had I done to be used so,
less than two years after I had married!"
She paused and hung her head, weeping gently. "Shame stings a woman like
nothing else," Madame Bulteel said with a sigh.
"It was so with me," continued Dennis's wife. "Then at last the thought
came that there was another woman. And all the time M. Marchand kept
coming and going, at first when Dennis was there, and always with some
good reason for coming--horses, cattle, shooting, or furs bought of the
Indians. When Dennis was not there, he came at first for an hour or two,
as if by chance, then for a whole day, because he said he knew I was
lonely. One day, I was sitting by the pool--it was in the evening. I was
crying because of the thought that followed me of another woman
somewhere, who made Dennis turn from me.
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