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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"The Hidden Places"

I'm
as strong as an ox. See!"
She put her arms around him and heaved, lifting the hundred and eighty
pounds of his weight clear of the ground. Then she laughed, a low,
pleased chuckle, her face flushed with the effort, and turned into the
house.
Hollister heard her at the piano as he walked away, thundering out the
rollicking air of the "Soldier's Chorus", its naive exultance of
victory, it seemed to Hollister, expressing well her mood,--a victory
that might mean for him an abyss of sorrow and loneliness out of which
he might never lift himself.


CHAPTER XVIII

For a week Hollister nursed this fear which so depressed him, watching
the slow return of his wife's vision, listening to her talk of all
they could do together when her sight was fully restored. From doubt
of ocular treatment she changed to an impatient desire of whatever
benefit might lie in professional care. A fever of impatience to see
began to burn in her.
So Hollister took her out to Vancouver, thence to Seattle, on to San
Francisco, passing from each city to a practitioner of higher standing
in the next, until two men with great reputations, and consulting fees
in proportion, after a week of observation announced their verdict:
she would regain normal vision, provided so and so--and in the event
of such and such.


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