She remembered all this, and an oppressive sense of pity for her own self gently stirred her worn, outraged heart.
Before her rose the scene of the wooing of her husband.

At one of the parties he had seized her in a dark porch, and pressing her with his whole body to the wall asked in a gruff, vexed voice: "Will you marry me ?" She had been pained and had felt offended; but he rudely dug his fingers into her flesh, snorted heavily, and breathed his hot, humid breath into her face.

She struggled to tear herself out of his grasp.
"Hold on!" he roared.

"Answer me! Well ?" Out of breath, shamed and insulted, she remained silent.
"Don't put on airs now, you fool! I know your kind.

You are mighty pleased." Some one opened the door.