That time was long past now. Those sudden outbursts of
affection on the part of his little woman, outbursts that only increased
in vehemence the longer they lived together, puzzled rather than
pleased him. He had come to submit to them good-naturedly, answering
her passionate inquiries with a "Sure, sure, Trina, sure I love you.
What--what's the matter with you?"
There was no passion in the dentist's regard for his wife. He dearly
liked to have her near him, he took an enormous pleasure in watching her
as she moved about their rooms, very much at home, gay and singing from
morning till night; and it was his great delight to call her into the
"Dental Parlors" when a patient was in the chair and, while he held the
plugger, to have her rap in the gold fillings with the little box-wood
mallet as he had taught her. But that tempest of passion, that
overpowering desire that had suddenly taken possession of him that day
when he had given her ether, again when he had caught her in his arms in
the B Street station, and again and again during the early days of their
married life, rarely stirred him now. On the other hand, he was never
assailed with doubts as to the wisdom of his marriage.
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