Deep Water

Hatred was a tiring emotion, but Melinda had nothing else to do with herself.

Underneath all her wildness she was rather a coward and a conformist.

Suddenly Vic was aware of the placidity of the water around him, of the soundlessness all around him.

He looked as if he had spent all his life dodging blows that were probably aimed at him for good reason.

A pleasant summer job in the delightfully cool Berkshires, a made-to-order mistress whom he didn't have to pay for—on the contrary, she paid for him, bought him liquor and took him food—and didn't have to be responsible for, because she was married. To top it all, the husband didn't mind!

The morals to resist didn't come very often any more.

women who have a child, might be "finished" with him as a man and as a husband, now that he had given her the child.

Thousands of married men had affairs with impunity

She was heading for the car with the undeterrable thrust of a horse getting back to stable.

Even though she was a bit unsteady, Vic could feel the Amazonian strength in her tall, firm body, the animal vitality that pulled him along with her.