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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"The Hidden Places"

He wanted her to remain completely outside the
scope of his feelings. He would have to try, he perceived, to
cultivate a complete indifference to her, to what she did, to where
she went, to insulate himself completely against her. Because he was
committed to other enterprises, and chiefly because, as he said to
himself, he would not exchange a single brown strand of Doris
Cleveland's hair for all of Myra's body, even if he had that choice.
The moon stole up from behind the Coast Range after they had gone to
bed. Its pale beams laid a silver square upon the dusky floor of their
room. Doris reached with one arm and drew his face close up to hers.
"Are you happy?" she demanded with a fierce intensity. "Don't you ever
wish you had a wife who could see? Aren't you _ever_ sorry?"
"Doris, Doris," he chided gently. "What in the world put such a notion
as that into your head?"
She lay thoughtful for a minute.
"Sometimes I wonder," she said at last. "Sometimes I feel that I must
reassure myself that you are contented with me. When we come in
contact with a woman like Mrs.


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