Diverging Roads

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Century Company, 1919 - California - 358 pages
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Contents

I
3
II
12
III
26
IV
37
V
46
VI
67
VII
88
VIII
98
XIV
217
XV
230
XVI
240
XVII
253
XVIII
273
XIX
291
XX
302
XXI
316

IX
125
X
146
XI
163
XII
187
XIII
205

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Page 327 - Then awake! — the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear; And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
Page 62 - ... of religion. The vision of men praying alone under the stars was also before me, when one of the ablest field workers of one of our national social work agencies recently said to me, in discussing the particularly delicate and baffling situations with which she had been grappling this past winter, that she did not know what she would have done if she had not had prayer as a recourse. Through prayer she had come into relationship with a power wholly other than herself, had, on a level other than...
Page 265 - ... just a lot of parasites living off the land without giving anything in return. Oh, don't think I don't know how useless these last three years — " She knew he was not listening. Nothing she was saying set his cup chattering against the saucer as he put it down. The twilight was prolonged by the first radiance of a rising moon, and in the strange...
Page 258 - The door opened wide into the small square hall, and in the stirred air a few rose petals drifted downward from the bowl of roses on the walnut table. She unlatched and swung back the casement windows in the living-room. Then she dropped her hat and purse among the cushions on the window-seat, and straightening her body to its full height, relaxed again in a long, contented sigh. A weight slipped from her spirit. She was at home. Her lingering glance caressed the rose-colored curtains rustling softly...
Page 166 - I wonder does collecting run in families, or do they just catch 'em young and harden them." Sometimes even in the mornings talk like this made him smile. But this morning he only growled unintelligibly, turning his head on the pillow. She went softly past the bed into the dressingroom. Bert had scouted her idea of getting an apartment with a kitchenette. He said he had not married a cook, and he hated women with burned complexions and red hands.
Page 254 - Her momentary anger subsided. She reflected that there were men on whom one could rely. Her thoughts returned to Paul as to a point of security. His appearance in San Jose a few months earlier had been like the sight of a cool spring in a desert. She had not realized...
Page 216 - Later, when she laid the twenty-dollar gold piece on the check for her supper, it seemed to her that she was embezzling. A discrepancy vaguely irritated her. Could one obtain money under false pretenses and then embezzle it, too? She was too tired to be deeply concerned, but as an abstract question it annoyed her. The waitress looked at her sharply, and she wondered if she had said something about it. In a haze she got up the stairs and into bed.
Page 208 - East," she replied at a venture. "Oh, the Limited?" Yes, the Limited, she agreed. When she had climbed into the buggy and picked up the reins, it occurred to her to ask him what road to take. When she had passed Whiskey Row the road ran straight before her, a black line of oiled sand drawn to a vanishing-point on the level desert. The horse trotted on with patient perseverance, the parched buggy rattled behind him, and she sat motionless with the reins in her hands.
Page 283 - Fer de Leon had absolute confidence in him ; he could sign a contract at any time for fifteen thousand a year. He wanted her to come with him. He needed her. With her beside him he could resist all temptations. She was an angel ; she was the only woman he had ever really loved and respected. With her he could do anything. Without her he would be hopeless, heartsick. God only knew what would happen. "You'1l forgive me, won't you? You won't turn me down. You 'll give me another chance?
Page 285 - He played upon every chord of the feminine heart that he knew. She stood immovable, sick with misery, and saw behind his words the motives that prompted them, self-love, self-assurance, baffled antagonism. She felt again, as something outside herself, the magnetism, the force like an electric current, that had conquered her once. " I really wish you would go,

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