THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
all with the vague presumption that he was hurrying the clock. On the day he could eat with two hands he paid his bill and returned to New York.
One thing had been accomplished by this enforced inactivity. He had rid his mind of all those agonizing doubts. He loved. He knew now wherein lay the difference between this love and the former one. All shades became apparent to him now, as easily distinguishable as artificial light from the splendor of dawn.
His first inclination, upon leaving the station, was to drive up to the house at once. But he fought the desire successfully. No more harebrained ideas; henceforth he must sail his bark along normal channels. He wanted Doris Athelstone above all things on earth, but he must have patience.
There was one peculiar phase. What doubts he had dismissed were those concerning his own love, its depths and trueness. Never had it entered his head that Doris might not care. It was not egotism, for Armitage lacked that insufferable attribute, and always had. Perhaps later the thing would confront him that Doris might
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