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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"The Hidden Places"

But I'm afraid. And if it turns out that I'm afraid with good
cause--why, I don't know what I'll do, what way I'll turn. But wait
until that happens--Well, it seems that a man and a woman who have
loved and lived together can't become completely indifferent--they
must either hate and despise each other--or else--You understand? We
have made some precious blunders, you and I. We have involved other
people in our blundering, and we mustn't forget about these other
people. I _can't_. Doris and the kid come first--myself last. I'm
selfish too. I can only sit here in suspense and wait for things to
happen as they will. You," he hesitated a second, "you can't help me,
Myra. You could hurt me a lot if you tried--and yourself too."
"I see," she said. "I understand."
She sat for a time with her hands resting in her lap, looking down at
the ground. Then she rose.
"I don't want to hurt you, Robin," she said soberly. "I can't help
looking for a way out, that's all. For myself, I must find a way out.
The life I lead now is stifling me--and I can't see where it will ever
be any different, any better.


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