On the contrary, she wanted him to stride back in one day from death to his old powerful, dominating self.
She grew to hate the hospital routine, the fixed hours, the regulated food.

"These rules, these hovering women," she exclaimed, "these trays--they make me think of the nursery." But what she really hated was Vincent's submission to it all.

In her heart she would have been glad to see him breaking the rules, defying the doctors, and bullying his nurses.
Before long a strong, silent antagonism grew up between her and the bright-eyed, cheerful nurse, Miss Gregory.

It irritated Adelaide to gain access to her husband through other people's consent; it irritated her to see the girl's understanding of the case, and her competent arrangements for her patient's comfort.

If Vincent had showed any disposition to revolt, Adelaide would have pleaded with him to submit; but as it was, she watched his docility with a scornful eye.
"That girl rules you with a rod of iron," she said one day.