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Perhaps he might if she had not been standing, a slender green-and-white, nymph-like figure, against the background of sun-hot, shadow-flecked, lichened stone, looking at him. The rosy light bathed her in its radiance. And as she looked, it seemed to him that something was dawning in that face of hers. He watched it, breathless with the realisation of his dreams, his hopes, his desires.
She could scarcely see him as he came swiftly toward her she put out her arms blindly, felt his fierce clasp envelop her, passed so into blessed unconsciousness. A drop or two of almost scalding broth aroused her. He held her in his arms and fed her not much and then let her stretch out on the sun-hot moss again. Before sunset he awakened her again, and he fed her more this time.
"Don't know," said Larry, dropping down beside her on the dry, sun-hot grass; "quite likely; but it wasn't that. The fact was" he hesitated "I met a very decent Padre at Mürren. We used to talk a lot about oh, no end of things! When he found I was Irish he was awfully pleased. He congratulated me on belonging to the Old Faith he's Irish himself, but he's never lived over here.
MacRae stirred wakeful on the sun-hot deck, slushing it down with buckets of sea water to save his ice and fish. He coiled ropes, made his vessel neat, and sat him down to think. Squitty Cove always stirred him to introspection. His mind leaped always to the manifold suggestions of any well-remembered place.
This doubtless must be the outlet to Waiontha Spring, for there to the left a green lane had been bruised through the elder thicket; and this I followed, shouldering my way amid fragrant blossom and sun-hot foliage, then through an alder run, and suddenly out across a gravelly reach where water glimmered in a still and golden pool. Lois knelt there on the bank.
Huddled in the Indian wagon, the Baron and his secretary talked until daybreak. For the rides over the sun-hot plains, the poling of cypress canoes, the days of hunting and the tanning of hides, there was now a third of fearless strength and endurance.
Vexed and indignant, Red Umbrella, scanning the thoughtful face, admits its youth, its high-breeding, its delicate, chiselled beauty, and the slender grace of the supple figure in the grey-blue serge skirt and white silk blouse; nor is she slow to appreciate the value of the diamond keeper on the slight, fine, ungloved hand that rests upon the sun-hot moss between them.
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