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Updated: May 31, 2025
And those dreamy, magic days that had followed, the more delightful, the more unreal because she had deliberately drugged her conscience. Then that night at White Horse! He had told her bitterly, broken-heartedly, that he could never forget. Perhaps even yet With an effort Hilda Courteau roused herself. Never forget? Why, he had forgotten the very next day, as was quite natural.
The Countess Courteau, it seemed to him, was a unique specimen and extremely hard to classify, in that she was neither old nor young- -or, what was even more puzzling, in that she was both. In years she was not far advanced little older than he, in fact but in experience, in wisdom, in self-reliance she was vastly his superior; and experience, he believed, is what makes women old.
His face wore a smile of disbelief; when the prisoner flushed and nodded he called out over the heads of the crowd: "Countess Courteau!" There was no answer. "Do any of you gentlemen know the Countess Courteau?" he inquired. His question was greeted by a general laugh. "Don't let him kid you," cried a derisive voice. "Never heard of her, but I met four kings last night," yelled another.
On the contrary, I admire your spirit. Now then, I'm thirsty. And you are, too." With a smile she evaded his outstretched arms and left the room. She was back in a moment with a bottle and two glasses. The latter she filled; her own she raised with a gesture, and Courteau blindly followed suit.
The Count came promptly to the rescue of his friend. "Ho! Again you lay your guilt upon others. Those miners at Sheep Camp let you off easy. Well, a pretty woman can do much with a miners' meeting, but here there will be no devoted lady to the rescue no skirt to hide behind, for " Courteau got no further. Ignoring Rock's previous admonition, Pierce knocked the fellow down with a swift, clean blow.
Rouletta and the Countess Courteau fell silent now. They found nothing to talk about, and in spite of themselves they strained their ears for some sound from the other room. Even Miss Cavendish seemed vaguely to feel the suspense, for she finally took her stand beside a frost-rimed window and engaged herself in tracing patterns thereon with the tip of her finger.
He grinned at Lucky Broad and was about to pass on when the Countess Courteau rose to her feet and stepped into the trail. "Just a minute!" she said. Of Royal's companion she sternly demanded, "What do you mean by this trick?" The old redskin shot her a swift glance; then his face became expressionless and he gazed stolidly at the river.
Of course, there was no pay out there on that mountain- crest, but hard work, honest poverty, an end of these demoralizing surroundings were bound to affect Pierce only for the better. Rouletta blessed the name of Hilda Courteau, who had made this possible, and of 'Poleon Doret, too 'Poleon of the great heart, who loved her so sincerely, so unselfishly.
Bridges nodded without shame. "Wider'n, a swamp, and yeller'n butter." "Wal, I see w'at I can do." The pilot walked up the bank in search of a crew. In the course of a half-hour he was back again and with him came the Countess Courteau. Calling Pierce aside, the woman said, swiftly: "We can't get a soul to help us; everybody's in a rush. We'll have to use our own men."
You've had your hour," she told him. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed, her teeth were clenched as if in a final struggle for self-restraint. Courteau pressed his lips to hers; then in a sudden frenzy he crushed her closer and fell to kissing her cheeks, her neck, her throat.
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