"
But little by little I became conscious of a certain commerce between
her and my husband in which I had no part. Sometimes I saw her eyes
seeking his, and occasionally I heard them exchange a few words about me
in French, which (because I did not speak it, being uncertain of my
accent) they thought I did not understand.
Perhaps this helped to sharpen my wits, for I began to see that I had
gone the wrong way to work with my husband. Instead of trying to make
myself fall in love with my husband, I should have tried to make my
husband fall in love with me.
When I asked myself how this was to be done I found one obvious
answer--I must become the sort of woman my husband admired and liked; in
short I must imitate Alma.
I resolved to do this, and after all that has happened since I feel a
little ashamed to tell of the efforts I made to play a part for which I
was so ill-fitted by nature and education.
Some of them were silly enough perhaps, but some were almost pathetic,
and I am not afraid that any good woman will laugh at the futile shifts
I was put to, in my girlish ignorance, to make my husband love me.
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