Vanderbridge. To reach the fire you
had to walk straight through her, for she didn't move. She didn't give
way an inch."
"Oh, she never gives way. She never gives way living or dead."
This was more than human nature could stand. "In Heaven's name," I cried
irritably, "who is she?"
"Don't you know?" She appeared genuinely surprised. "Why, she is the
other Mrs. Vanderbridge. She died fifteen years ago, just a year after
they were married, and people say a scandal was hushed up about her,
which he never knew. She isn't a good sort, that's what I think of her,
though they say he almost worshipped her."
"And she still has this hold on him?"
"He can't shake it off, that's what's the matter with him, and if it
goes on, he will end his days in an asylum. You see, she was very young,
scarcely more than a girl, and he got the idea in his head that it was
marrying him that killed her. If you want to know what I think, I
believe she puts it there for a purpose."
"You mean--?" I was so completely at sea that I couldn't frame a
rational question.
"I mean she haunts him purposely in order to drive him out of his mind.
She was always that sort, jealous and exacting, the kind that clutches
and strangles a man, and I've often thought, though I've no head for
speculation, that we carry into the next world the traits and feelings
that have got the better of us in this one.
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