Hollister looked after her. He was troubled afresh, and he thought to
himself that he must avoid scenes like that. He was not, it appeared,
wholly immune from the old virus.
And he was clearly conscious of the cold voice of reason warning him
against Myra. Sitting there in the shadow of his silent house, he
puzzled over these new complexities of feeling. He was a little
bewildered. To him Doris meant everything that Myra had once been. He
wanted only to retain what he had. He did not want to salvage anything
from the wreckage of the past. He was too deeply concerned with the
dreadful test that fully restored eyesight would impose on Doris. He
knew that Doris Cleveland's feeling for him had been profound and
vital. She had given too many proofs for him to doubt that. But would
it survive? He did not know. He hoped a little and feared much.
Above this fear he found himself now bewildered by this fresh swirl of
emotion. He knew that if Myra had flung herself into his arms he would
have found some strange comfort in that embrace, that he could not
possibly have repulsed her.
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