I was eighteen years old when Vernon began to pay me attention. He was five years older than I, and in my inexperience he seemed to me the epitome of masculine perfection. Nice looking, well groomed, gallant and attentive, he quickly captured my youthful affections. When he proposed marriage to me, my parents, solicitous for my welfare, interposed some objections, for Vernon had nothing but an unimportant clerkship, and evidently had not impressed them as favorably as he had me. But this being the only tangible objection they could present against our marriage, I laughed it to scorn, and when they realized that my heart was set, they withdrew their opposition, and we were married.
I was deeply in love with my handsome husband and for a short time was ideally happy.
My first shock came when I discovered that a beautiful diamond engagement ring he had slipped on my finger was unpaid for, and that the installments due on it were sadly in arrears. The small salary which he received had, before our marriage, sufficed for his own necessities but as he had saved nothing we were compelled to adopt methods of strictest economy. Before marriage I had been accustomed to a comfortable living, and generous parents had always provided me with money to purchase the little luxuries of dress and toilet so dear to the feminine heart. After marriage, my father continued to give me small sums destined to my own personal use, but the pressure of domestic obligations was such that I was obliged to use this money for household expenses. The former luxuries were sadly missed, but still deeply enamored with my husband, I would not give him up for all the treasures of India.
But, alas, the sweetest illusions of life are those most prone to rapid destruction.
The installments due on the ring had mounted to a figure which in our actual finances was appalling, and to save Vernon from the embarrassment of constant dunning threats, I silently withdrew it from my finger, and handed it to him with a request that it be returned.
This was but the beginning, and before we had been married half a year, I began to see life through less rosy spectacles. The sad realization that the idol of my girlish affections was far from being all I had so confidently assumed, was forced upon me.
Vernon was of weak character and lacked the manly aggressive qualities which women require in the men they love, and without which respect and admiration are impossible. Marriage, instead of developing these latent if at all existent qualities was having just the contrary effect upon him and day by day he was becoming accustomed to lean more on me. The money given me by my father was now accepted as a matter of course as being our main dependence in household finances, and his own salary was devoted almost entirely to personal expenditures.
I still loved Vernon – but instead of loving him with respect and admiration, it was a pitying love – more as a mother might love a weak and petulant child.
When we had been married about a year, Vernon lost his position, and as the weeks went by, without a serious effort on his part to find another, I was obliged to seek employment. In this I was successful and thought the pay was small between it and what my father gave me we managed to live.
Vernon spent most of the time lying around the house, smoking innumerable cigarettes and reviling his " rotten luck" as he called it. If I reproved him for his failure to make a more determined effort to improve his circumstances he became cross and irritable, and would leave the house, to return at a late hour of the night.
Now appeared on the scene a Mr. George Tucker.
This individual came home one evening with Vernon, and was introduced to me as an old friend of my husband' s. Mr. Tucker, though not of displeasing appearance, was an uncultured man several years older than Vernon, addicted to flashy clothing, and apparently well supplied with money. From the moment I saw this man I felt an instinctive dislike for him. His conversation was in bad taste, and the first evening he spent with us, he eyed me incessantly, assuring my husband that he had known what a " topping little woman" he had, he would not have delayed so long in paying his respects.
After this Mr. Tucker' s visits came in rapid succession. Occasionally he invited us out to cafes, cinematographic shows and cabarets, always with a vulgar, and ostentatious display of money. I would gladly have avoided his hospitality but Vernon insisted that I accompany them and reprimanded me for any display of coolness toward the man.
He assured me that Mr. Tucker was a person of wealth and influence engaged in many prosperous enterprises and that the cultivation of his friendship was bound to result in a solution of his own difficulties, and that I was therefore to treat him with the greatest consideration. I could not imagine what kind of business the man was engaged in – and doubted whether it could be anything of a very respectable nature, but when I questioned Vernon on this score, his answers were evasive – Mr. Tucker' s interests were many and varied. Horse racing I found out later. Within a short space of time his visits were of nightly occurrence, and when we did not go to a show or a cafe, he sat around until eleven or twelve o' clock, listening to Vernon and looking at me. My intuition coupled with the many more or less frank attentions Mr. Tucker paid me told me that he was more interested in me than in my husband. There are things which a woman instinctively knows and though I was innocent and unsuspecting to a fault I simply " felt" the things this man was thinking as he sat in our little parlor, his eyes devouring my every movement, and I was astonished that Vernon did not perceive what was to me so obvious.
Soon Mr. Tucker was bringing huge boxes of candy tied with flaming red ribbons and other gifts which, in order not to give my husband further reason to chide me for lack of cordiality I reluctantly accepted. About this time I observed that Vernon was never without spending money, which I did not doubt was being supplied by this mysterious and accommodation friend whose attention to me was likewise becoming more and more pronounced. Vernon' s slight preoccupation with the interest the man was now openly displaying in me, filled me with amazement. I could not understand it.
One night after I had shaken Mr. Tucker' s hand off my arm several times in succession, I said to him:
" Vernon, I simply can' t stand that man. He is too fresh. What in the world do you see in him to have him hanging around here all the time?"
" Listen, Eedy!" replied my husband, " George is the best friend I' ve got and it' s a damned shame you' re so stand- offish with him. If you had any real interest in seeing me get on my feet, you wouldn' t treat him so cold!"
" But, Vernon, what has that got to do with his having his hands on me all the time? I don' t like it!"
" Aw, hell! What do you want to do? Make him sore at us?"
I subsided although I was inwardly much perturbed at my husband' s singular attitude. It seemed as though each day was bringing some new disillusion.
A few nights later Mr. Tucker suggested that instead of going out for the evening we send for beer and sandwiches at his expense and enjoy ourselves at home. Vernon seconded the idea with enthusiasm and immediately volunteered to go after the necessary ingredients. Supplied with money by the always accommodating Mr. Tucker he put on his hat and coat and went out.
" Girlie," said Mr. Tucker as soon as we were alone, " there' s nothing I wouldn' t do for you."
" Thank you, Mr. Tucker."
" You know, I think a lot of Vernie, but I think a lot of you, too."
" Yes, I know you are a good friend to Vernon, Mr. Tucker."
He arose, drew his chair closer to mine, placed his hand on my knee familiarly, and continued:
" I know you' re kind of up against it here. A sweet little girl like you ought not to be working. What Vernie needs is somebody to back him up, and I' m the chappie that' s going to do it."
He patted my knee affectionately.
" I' m sure my husband will appreciate anything you do for him."
" And you:?" he whispered sentimentally, and at the same time his hand dropped down over the calf of my leg and began to squeeze it.
There was an implication in his words I didn' t like. Also his act in feeling my leg in such a familiar manner aroused my anger. Moving my chair sufficiently to dislodge his hands, I said coldly:
" I am Vernon' s wife, Mr. Tucker."
After a long delay Vernon returned with bottled stout, sandwiches, cheese and other comestibles.
" Well, how did you folks get along while I was gone?" he exclaimed breezily. " You know, George," he continued, shaking his finger with a waggish gesture, " I wouldn' t trust Eedy alone with anybody but you!"
" Damned if I didn' t think you' d be safe in trusting her with pretty near anyone," responded Mr. Tucker sourly, whereupon my husband cast a sharp glance in my direction.
" You two haven' t been quarreling, have you?"
" Of course, we haven' t been quarreling, Vernon! Mr. Tucker has been telling me how much he thinks of you."
The bottles were opened, and under the mellow influence of the liquid contents the momentary tension relaxed and Mr. Tucker and Vernon were soon in a good humor again. Before the evening was over I received another shock for my husband told a story which although it convulsed Mr. Tucker with laughter, suffused my face with shame at hearing it in his presence.
" Vernie, you oughtn' t tell such stories in front of Eedy! Just look how she' s blushing!" Mr. Tucker exclaimed gleefully.
As soon as he was gone, Vernon' s good humor and gaiety vanished.
" What did you do to George to make him peeved while I was gone?" he asked, turning angrily to me.
" I didn' t do anything to him, Vernon dear. He put his hand on my leg, underneath my dress, and I moved my chair, that was all."
" I' d like to know," he exclaimed furiously, " why you' re so damned finicky with George!"
" But, Vernon!" I protested, almost speechless with surprise, " you surely don' t approve of him taking such liberties as that, do you?"
" Oh, what the hell does it amount to? He isn' t going to eat you!"
I stared at him wide eyed and, changing his tones, he added coaxingly:
" Say Eedy, why don' t you loosen up a bit with George? He could do a lot for us, if you' d be more sensible. There' s nothing in all this damn prudery. It isn' t going to get us any place!"
As I listened to these strange words, scarcely able to believe my ears, a terrible comprehension began to dawn on me and suddenly an explanation of many things which had hitherto puzzled me made itself apparent.
I looked at him steadily, and for the first time I saw him in his true light, a weakling, a selfish, spineless man from whom the last bit of artificial gilt was gone. And in an instant every shred of affection faded away and in its place, at the recollection of all I had lost, came a cold determined longing to revenge myself. Even as I looked at him a plan, suggested by his own words, formulated itself in my mind.
With simulated calmness, I said softly:
" Vernon, let' s get things straight. Just what is it you want me to do to help you? Do you want me to let Mr. Tucker fuck me?" his face flushed at hearing the ugly word, but deceived by my apparent tranquility, he replied:
" Well, Eedy, George is a good scout. You could loosen up a bit with him. Of course:" he added virtuously, " I wouldn' t want any other chap fooling with you:"
" Vernon, was that why you went out tonight? You don' t have to hide anything from me. Now that we understand each other, I' m going to help you but I want to know just exactly what I' m expected to do. You' ve already told Mr. Tucker he could do it with me, haven' t you?"
Still deceived by the suavity of my tones, he answered:
" Well: not exactly, but there wouldn' t be any great harm if you came through to him once or twice and it would put us on easy street!"
" Very well, Vernon. That' s what I wanted to know. I' ll do it. But the next time you arrange it, don' t go out. It isn' t necessary and besides, I' m afraid of him. If you want me to let him do it with me, you must stay in the room."
" But Eedy! That wouldn' t be decent!" he exclaimed in surprise. " He wouldn' t hurt you! What would he think if I was sticking around?"
" You leave that to me, Vernon. You' ll have to be here, or I won' t let him touch me."
" Well," he agreed, doubtfully, " we' ll fix it some way."