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Updated: June 15, 2025
There was something almost flippant in her tone. Strange that Courtland did not recognize it. But the firelight, the white gown, the pure profile, the down-drooped lashes had done for him once more what the red light had done before taken him out of his normal senses and made him see a Gila that was not really there: soft, sweet, tender, womanly.
Only a narrow crevice separated the hotel wall from the next house, whose yard stretched below her, crossed with clothes lines, the plants and shrubs showing a pale green, elongated growth in their efforts to reach the sunlight. Her down-drooped glance ranged over it with disfavor, and she idly wondered what kind of people lived there.
"Because I wanted to be worthy of your love!" she breathed softly, her eyes down-drooped, her face rosy with her confession. "Oh, my darling!" he said, and clasped her close once more. Almost the letter itself was forgotten, until it slipped softly to the floor and called attention to itself. There was really after all no need for the letter. It had done its intended work without being read.
A muttered "thank you," was all the words she had for him, and she got to her feet with looks directed to the arrangement of her skirt. He stood knee-high in the water watching her, glad of her down-drooped lids, for he could dwell on the bloom that deepened under his eye. "You haven't learned the force of running water yet," he said.
The great wolfish creatures had more courage than he had; they took the unjust treatment without open complaint, as is the way of the husky, tacitly resenting it and eying with fierce, contemptuous eyes the cowardly wretch who so treated them. They slunk slowly and with down-drooped tails and bristling manes into their places in the traces, and stood ready for the word to pull.
He watched her down-drooped face and said: "Then I could go in peace. Am I asking too much?" She made a negative movement with her head and turned her face away from him. "You'll do this for my happiness now?" "Anything," she murmured. "It will be also for your own." He moved his free hand and clasped it on the mound made by their locked fingers.
Birds sang. Squirrels scampered. Their horses stood dozing, ears and head down-drooped, eyes half-closed, one hind leg tucked up. "Confound it!" cried Elliott suddenly, following his unspoken thought. "I feel like a bad little boy stealing jam! By night I'll be scared.
It is time you learned another language, and fortunately there is an Italian lady, a Madame Margherita Martelli, once a famous singer, resident in the village, who will instruct you in her language and also give you singing lessons. She will also, perhaps, accompany you on your daily walk." A curious light flashed suddenly into Margaret's down-drooped hazel eyes. Her daily lessons! Her daily walk!
Interruptions were furnished in a sudden, cracked laugh from Daddy John, and phrases of dissent or approval from Glen and Bella stretching their ears from the front of the tent. Only Lucy said nothing, her head wrapped in a shawl, her face down-drooped and pale. Late that night Susan was waked by whispering sounds which wound stealthily through her sleep feeling for her consciousness.
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