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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"North of Fifty-Three"

She could smile at the mental vacuity she encountered, and
think nothing of it, if with that vacuity went those material factors
which made for ease and entertainment. The physical side of her was
all alert. Luxury and the mild excitements of a social life that took
nothing seriously, those were the things she craved. For a long time
she had been totally deprived of them. Nor had such unlimited
opportunities ever before been in her grasp.
"Yes, that was droll," she repeated.
Bill snorted.
"Droll? Perhaps," he said. "Blatant ignorance, coupled with a desire
to appear the possessor of culture, is sometimes amusing. But as a
general thing it simply irritates."
"You're hard to please," she replied. "Can't you enjoy yourself, take
things as they come, without being so critical?"
He shrugged his shoulders, and remained silent.
"Well," he said presently, "we'll take that jaunt to New York day after
to-morrow."
He was still sitting by the window when Hazel was ready to go to bed.
She came back into the room in a trailing silk kimono, and, stealing
softly up behind him, put both hands on his shoulders.
"What are you thinking so hard about, Billy-boy?" she whispered.


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