should have him?

How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started
in wild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought
of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited
the cruel fangs of the tiger!

But how much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How in
her grievous reveries had she gnashed her teeth, and torn her hair,
when she saw his start of rapturous delight as he opened the door
of the lady! How her soul had burned in agony when she had seen
him rush to meet that woman, with her flushing cheek and
sparkling eye of triumph; when she had seen him lead her forth,
his whole frame kindled with the joy of recovered life; when she
had heard the glad shouts from the multitude, and the wild
ringing of the happy bells; when she had seen the priest, with his
joyous followers, advance to the couple, and make them man and
wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen
them walk away together upon their path of flowers, followed by
the tremendous shouts of the hilarious multitude, in which her
one despairing shriek was lost and drowned!

Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for
her in the blessed regions of semi-barbaric futurity?

And yet, that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood!

Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been
made after days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had
known she would be asked, she had decided what she would