The mode of destruction makes no difference. ’ ‘Back?’ Melusine put a hand to her aching temple. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. He then descended; and having induced Bess to take off some part of her clothing, he tore the gown and petticoat into shreds and twisted them into a sort of rope which he fastened to the lower bars of the window. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. Afterward he stole out of the room with the bloodstained sheet to boast her virginity to his brothers and father, which only truly mattered because she was beautiful, her mother had said.
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