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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"North of Fifty-Three"

She had a smile-compelling vision of that
straight, lean-limbed, powerful body developing a protuberant waistline
and a double chin. That was really funny, so far-fetched did it seem.
And she laughed. Bill froze into rigid silence.
"I'm going to-morrow," he said suddenly. "I think, on the whole, it'll
be just as well if you don't go. Stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll
transfer some more money to your account. I think I'll drop down to
the club."
She followed him out into the hall, and, as he wriggled into his coat,
she had an impulse to throw her arms around his neck and declare, in
all sincerity, that she would go to the Klappan or to the north pole or
any place on earth with him, if he wanted her. But by some peculiar
feminine reasoning she reflected in the same instant that if Bill were
away from her in a few weeks he would be all the more glad to get back.
That closed her mouth. She felt too secure in his affection to believe
it could be otherwise. And then she would cheerfully capitulate and go
back with him to his beloved North, to the Klappan or the ranch or
wherever he chose. It was not wise to be too meek or obedient where a
husband was concerned.


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