ach other's
habits. But their real selves, the essence of their being, the shadowy
inner self where motives and passions took form and gathered force
until they were translated for good or evil into forthright
action,--these they had not known at all.

At any rate he perceived that Myra could calmly enough face the
prospect of being alone. Hollister cast his eye up to where the cedars
towered, a green mass on the slope above the cliff. He thought of
Charlie Mills and wondered if after all she would be alone.

He felt ashamed of that thought as soon as it formed in his mind. And
being ashamed, he saw and understood that he still harbored a little
bitterness against Myra. He did not wish to bestow bitterness or any
other emotion upon her. He wanted her to remain completely outside the
scope of his feelings. He would have to try, he perceived, to
cultivate a complete indifference to her, to what she did, to where
she went, to insulate himself completely against her. Because he was
committed to other enterprises, and chiefly because, as he said to
himself, he would not exchange a single brown strand of Doris
Cleveland's hair for all of Myra's body, even if he had that choice.

The moon stole up from behind the Coast Range after they had gone to
bed. Its pale beams laid a silver square upon the dusky floor of their
room. Doris reached with one arm and drew his face close up to hers.

"Are you happy?" she demanded with a fierce intensity. "Don't you ever
wish you had a wife who could see? Aren't you _ever_ sorry?"

"Doris, Doris," he chided gently. "What in the world put such a notion
as that into your head?"

She lay thoughtful for a minute.

"Sometimes I wonder," she said at last. "Sometimes I feel that I must
reassure myself that you are contented with me. When we come in
contact with a woman like Mrs. Bland, for instance--Tell me, Bob, is
she pretty?"

"Yes," he said "Very."

"Fair or dark?"

"Fair-skinned. She has blond hair and dark blue eyes, almost purple.
She is about your height, about the same figure. Why so curious?"

"I just wondered. I like her very much," Doris said, with some slight
emphasis on the last two words. "She is a very interesting talker."

"I noticed that," Hollister observed dryly. "She spoke charmingly of
the weather and the local scenery and the mosquitoes."

Doris laughed.

"A woman always falls back on those conversational staples with a
strange man. That's just the preliminar