In both instances of course, they get more than they so hastily bargained for. Edward doesn't age or lose his handsomeness, but remains apathetic as a stone, while Thalia becomes a gaunt, malice-charged harpy. These transformations are fittingly in direct proportion to the sympathies that engendered them, while at the same time equating the condition of being dead with two very common marital stereotypes, perhaps wryly commenting that Death cannot improve upon them. Though the sex of the walking corpse alternates, both stories contain a statement of the outside friend to the effect that she fears lest the husband forbid further contact with the wife, a quaint reflection of those sad, male-dominated times. One thing I will tell you.
Love has no power.
It never shouts out across great space. See Ambrose Bierce for more examples of what to expect from a soulless corpse. With all due respect to the dear departed, that just sounds like something a dead person would say. It was also adapted in 1949 for radio's Hallmark Playhouse.