"Now look at it Here you are in hell!
Caged up with two old crows picking the life out of you. They'll
kill you-I can see it; you're being killed by inches. You can't go
anywhere, you can't have anything. Life is just torture for you-"
She gave a little moan of anguish and despair and turned her face
to her chairback. Her shoulders shook with weeping, but she
listened. He went to her and stood with his hand on the chairback.
His voice trembled and broke. "There's just one way to get out of
this, Agnes. Come with me. He don't care for you; his whole idea
of women is that they are created for his pleasure and to keep
house. Your whole life is agony. Come! Don't cry. There's a
chance for life yet."
She didn't speak, but her sobs were less violent; his voice growing
stronger reassured her.
"I'm going East, maybe to Europe; and the woman who goes with
me will have nothing to do but get strong and well again. I've made
you suffer so, I ought to spend the rest of my life making you
happy. Come! My wife will sit with me on the deck of the steamer
and see the moon rise, and walk with me by the sea, till she gets
strong and happy again-till the dimples get back into her cheeks.
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