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Duane remembered it as the one where he had seen the pretty woman watching him ride by. He could not recall what she looked like. The cabin was the same as the other adobe structures in the valley, but it was larger and pleasantly located rather high up in a grove of cottonwoods. In the windows and upon the porch were evidences of a woman's hand.
"My self-respect," she whispered, the pink colour stealing into her cheeks. "I've won it back. Do you understand? I've gone after my other self and got her back. I'm mistress of myself, Duane; I'm in full control, first in command. Do you know what that means?" "Does it mean me?" "Yes." "When?" "When you will." He leaned above her, looking down into her eyes.
"Of course I am, you blessed boy!" she said, taking him in her vigorous young arms and kissing him squarely and thoroughly. Then she held him at arms' length and looked him very gravely in the eyes: "Love her a great deal, Duane," she said in a low voice; "she needs it." "I could not help doing it." But Kathleen repeated: "Love her enough.
We'll sit it out if you're afraid I'll make a holy show of you." "Oh, dear," said Geraldine in pretty distress, "and I let you beguile me when I'm dying to do this minuet. Duane, you must try to remember! Everybody will be watching us."
For some time, while they were talking, Duane had noticed out of the corner of his eye another man at a neighbouring table a thin, pop-eyed, hollow-chested, unhealthy young fellow, who, at intervals, stared insolently at Grandcourt, and once or twice contrived to knock over his glass of whiskey while reaching unsteadily for a fresh cigarette.
"Let 'em jump!" retorted Duane, forcibly ejecting his host from the room and locking the door. Then, lighting a cigarette, he strolled into the bath room and started the water running into the porcelain tub. He was in excellent spirits, quite undisturbed by the unexpected proximity of Rosalie Dysart or the possible renewal of their hitherto slightly hazardous friendship.
May I look for him?" "If you are indeed a ranger." Duane produced his papers. Miss Longstreth haughtily refused to look at them. "Miss Longstreth, I've come to make Fairdale a safer, cleaner, better place for women and children. I don't wonder at your resentment. But to doubt me insult me. Some day you may be sorry." Floyd Lawson made a violent motion with his hands. "All stuff!
But Captain Duane was gone into the house for a cigar. Albumblatt, with Sergeant Casey and a detail of six men, was in truth hastening over that broad mile which opens between Fort Brown and the Agency.
She was very, very kind to me, I can tell you; and Lord knows why, because I've nothing intellectual to offer anybody, and I certainly am not pretty!" Duane, very much amused, looked at his watch. "When does your train leave?" asked Grandcourt. "I've an hour yet." "Come up to my room and smoke. I've better whiskey than we dispense down here. I'm living at the club, you know.
Duane Smithe was a Saratoga acquaintance of Ruth Erskine, and was en route for Jamestown for the day. "Where is Jamestown?" queried Eurie, who was a very useful member of society, in that she never pretended knowledge that she did not possess, so that you had only to keep still and listen to the answers that were made to her questions in order to know a good deal.
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