Richard Buckner
Ollie McGee
Have you seen, walking through the village, a man with downcast eyes and haggard face? That is my husband dear.
My secret cruelty, never to be told, robbed me of my youth and my beauty, 'til at last, wrinkled and with yellow teeth, and with broken pride and shameful humility, I sank into the grave.
But what think you knows that my husband's heart, the face of what I was, the face of what he made me? These are driving him to the place where I lie. In death, therefore, I am avenged.
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