Anthony Adverse by Hervey Allen

Before the death of her husband Dolores already found herself in charge of his far-flung haciendas, his mines, and various mansions. Don Guillermo had for several years been hopelessly feeble. They had no children, but he had long kept a large, hungry pack of his collateral relatives, who looked forward with undisguised enthusiasm to gathering him to his fathers. Some of them, who had more courage than cash, had even proposed among themselves to hasten his demise, should a seasonable opportunity present itself. The skill and diplomacy of the old hidalgo's wife had prevented them, and permitted nature, who is so indifferent to collateral heirs, to take her own tedious time.

And very tedious it was, especially for Dolores. While the old gentleman, to whom she had been joined in matrimony by an allegedly Christian ceremony, sat in the patio of his great house at Guanajuato and played with moonstones and white rabbits, for he had a senile passion for both, she had watched her mirror reflect nothing but the slow effect upon her of the sterile embraces of time.