"
"Maybe mine will fade too," Hollister suggested.
"Oh, you're fishing for compliments now," she laughed. "You know very
well you are. But we're pretty lucky, Robert mine, just the same.
We've gained a lot. We haven't lost anything yet. I wouldn't
back-track, not an inch. Would you--honest, now?"
Hollister answered that in a manner which seemed to him suitable to
the occasion. And while he stood with his arm around her, Doris
startled him.
"Myra told me a curious thing the other day," she said. "She has been
married twice. She told me that her first husband's name was the same
as yours--Bob Hollister--that he was killed in France in 1917. She
says that you somehow remind her of him."
"There were a good many men killed in France in '17," he observed.
"And Hollister is not such an uncommon name. Does the lady suspect I'm
the reincarnation of her dear departed? She seems to have consoled
herself for the loss, anyway."
"I doubt if she has," Doris answered. "She doesn't unburden her soul
to me, but I have the feeling that she is not exactly a happy woman.
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