With perverse inconsistency she began to wish him to come to her, to comfort her.

He ought to know that she was in trouble, that she was lonely and unhappy.
"Oh, Mac," she called in a trembling voice.

But the concertina still continued to wail and lament.

Then Trina wished she were dead, and on the instant jumped up and ran into the "Dental Parlors," and threw herself into her husband's arms, crying: "Oh, Mac, dear, love me, love me big! I'm so unhappy." "What--what--what--" the dentist exclaimed, starting up bewildered, a little frightened.
"Nothing, nothing, only LOVE me, love me always and always." But this first crisis, this momentary revolt, as much a matter of high-strung feminine nerves as of anything else, passed, and in the end Trina's affection for her "old bear" grew in spite of herself.

She began to love him more and more, not for what he was, but for what she had given up to him.