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[...] For years afterward I thought of writing Eitel a letter but I could not decide exactly what to say and the impulse passed. I felt that I had moved my distance, and it would have been self-righteous to tell him so. The years pass into the years and we count our time in lonely private rhythms w…

And he nodded, his heart numb, his will sick, thinking there must be some escape, and knowing there was nothing. For on the instant she said these words he heard the other words she had said the night he gave his qualified proposal of marriage. “You have no respect for me,” she had said then, and l…

They had a maid, a middle-aged Mexican woman with a stolid face who came in for two hours every morning and put the place together just long enough for Elena to scatter it again.

It is so little and yet he is so damned for he has traduced the choirboys and left pregnant half the rich wives of the village

So with the grace of a cow kicking flop, and with the old private worry that perhaps I had taken a punch too many on the head and would never be able to think that well after all, I stumbled into the kind of things which everybody has wrestled with, one way and then another; I thought of courage an…