Do you think Mary Maloney really loved her husband Patrick Maloney? Explain why or why not.

I can see this answer going either way, so what is most important is explaining to your teacher why you think what you think.  

Personally, yes, I think Mary Maloney was very much in love with her husband.  I believe that she saw Patrick as the reason for her existence.  He is central to her entire universe.  If this were Romeo and Juliet, Patrick would be the sun in Mary's east. 

When the...

I can see this answer going either way, so what is most important is explaining to your teacher why you think what you think.  

Personally, yes, I think Mary Maloney was very much in love with her husband.  I believe that she saw Patrick as the reason for her existence.  He is central to her entire universe.  If this were Romeo and Juliet, Patrick would be the sun in Mary's east. 

When the story first begins, the reader is introduced to Mary patiently sitting at home doing nothing other than waiting for Patrick to come home.  She continually checks the clock to assure herself that time is continuing to pass, because each moment that does is one more moment closer to Patrick's arrival.  

Now and again she would glance up at the clock, but without anxiety, merely to please herself with the thought that each minute gone by made it nearer the time when he would come.

That sounds very much like she is in love with Patrick.  When he finally does get home, she moves about the room with a singular purpose.  That purpose is to ensure that Patrick is well taken care of.  She greets him at the door, insists that he sit and rest, and quickly serves him his drink.  After that, Mary is joyous to sit within his very presence.  Yes, I believe that Mary loves Patrick a lot. 

She loved to luxuriate in the presence of this man, and to feel-almost as a sunbather feels the sun-that warm male glow that came out of him to her when they were alone together. She loved him for the way he sat loosely in a chair, for the way he came in a door, or moved slowly across the room with long strides. She loved intent, far look in his eyes when they rested in her, the funny shape of the mouth, and especially the way he remained silent about his tiredness, sitting still with himself until the whiskey had taken some of it away.