She trembled and hesitated before every cave of mystery which her daily life with him opened darkly to her abashed eyes.

She felt herself going round and round and round in a circle, not forlorn enough to rebel or break away, but dazed and wondering and shrinking.

She was like one robbed of will, made mechanical by a stern conformity to imposed rules of life and conduct.

There were women in Askatoon who were sorry for her and made efforts to get near her; but whether it was the Methodist Minister or his wife, or the most voluble sister of the prayer-meeting, none got beyond the threshold of Tralee, as it were.
The girl-wife abashed them.

She was as one who automatically spoke as she was told to speak, did what she was told to do.