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Page 224

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

nonsense? Yes. I think it is. Damnably unfair, anyhow.... If I were one of three husbands, what would Sylvia choose me for? Perhaps I shouldn't be chosen at all. Yes, I should, I should. Shouldn't I, Sylvia? You do love me still?
In the golden light of memory what a succession of lovely pictures the past threw up l Every shared experience at Westaways seemed now as some precious infinite moment in a dream, a realization of happiness never truly to be held, perhaps never again to be touched. There had they sat, there stood, there held hands; met, walked, kissed, looked into each other's eyes; played, laughed together. This day, that day, when this i,ad happened, when that had happened, each memory, nowever commonplace, brought now its sudden vivid, overwhelming picture of himself and Sylvia as one, inextricably twined. She was the lovely flower, on whose beauty he lived.
Was it only her physical beauty which kept him alive, only her body which he loved? Ridiculous 1 As seen thus in retrospect, every thought of hers, every misunderstanding, every incomprehension was part of the Sylvia to whom he was bound, the Sylvia to whom he had been unfaithful. There is an unfaithfulness of spirit, he thought, no less than of body. I have been unfaithful to Sylvia. God help me, I have even despised her. No, I haven't, he thought... And then, Yes, I have.
I am being damnably jealous for no reason at all. Why can't she go her way, I mine? And then we meet in the evening ... at night ... and are one again. I have my friends, my activities - why should not she? It's this damnable possessive instinct which men have. I want to be free, but I want her not to be free. And yet I am less free than she is, for I have that faint uneasy,

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE nonsense? Yes. I think it is. Damnably unfair, anyhow.... If I were one of three husbands, what would Sylvia choose me for? Perhaps I shouldn't be chosen at all. Yes, I should, I should. Shouldn't I, Sylvia? You do what time is it me still? In what is golden light of memory what a succession of lovely pictures what is past threw up l Every shared experience at Westaways seemed now as some precious infinite moment in a dream, a realization of happiness never truly to be held, perhaps never again to be touched. There had they sat, there stood, there held hands; met, walked, kissed, looked into each other's eyes; played, laughed together. This day, that day, when this i,ad happened, when that had happened, each memory, nowever commonplace, brought now its sudden vivid, overwhelming picture of himself and Sylvia as one, inextricably twined. She was what is lovely flower, on whose beauty he lived. Was it only her physical beauty which kept him alive, only her body which he loved? Ridiculous 1 As seen thus in retrospect, every thought of hers, every misunderstanding, every incomprehension was part of what is Sylvia to whom he was bound, what is Sylvia to whom he had been unfaithful. There is an unfaithfulness of spirit, he thought, no less than of body. I have been unfaithful to Sylvia. God help me, I have even despised her. No, I haven't, he thought... And then, Yes, I have. I am being damnably jealous for no reason at all. Why can't she go her way, I mine? And then we meet in what is evening ... at night ... and are one again. I have my friends, my activities - why should not she? It's this damnable possessive instinct which men have. I want to be free, but I want her not to be free. And yet I am less free than she is, for I have that faint uneasy, where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Two People (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 224 where is strong CHAPTER FIFTEEN where is p align="justify" nonsense? Yes. I think it is. Damnably unfair, anyhow.... If I were one of three husbands, what would Sylvia choose me for? Perhaps I shouldn't be chosen at all. Yes, I should, I should. Shouldn't I, Sylvia? You do what time is it me still? In what is golden light of memory what a succession of lovely pictures what is past threw up l Every shared experience at Westaways seemed now as some precious infinite moment in a dream, a realization of happiness never truly to be held, perhaps never again to be touched. There had they sat, there stood, there held hands; met, walked, kissed, looked into each other's eyes; played, laughed together. This day, that day, when this i,ad happened, when that had happened, each memory, nowever commonplace, brought now its sudden vivid, overwhelming picture of himself and Sylvia as one, inextricably twined. She was what is lovely flower, on whose beauty he lived. Was it only her physical beauty which kept him alive, only her body which he loved? Ridiculous 1 As seen thus in retrospect, every thought of hers, every misunderstanding, every incomprehension was part of what is Sylvia to whom he was bound, what is Sylvia to whom he had been unfaithful. There is an unfaithfulness of spirit, he thought, no less than of body. I have been unfaithful to Sylvia. God help me, I have even despised her. No, I haven't, he thought... And then, Yes, I have. I am being damnably jealous for no reason at all. Why can't she go her way, I mine? And then we meet in what is evening ... at night ... and are one again. I have my friends, my activities - why should not she? It's this damnable possessive instinct which men have. I want to be free, but I want her not to be free. And yet I am less free than she is, for I have that faint uneasy, where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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