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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Way of an Eagle"

Something in the nature of a revelation had come to
her during that brief halt by the roadside. For the first time she
had caught a glimpse, plain and unvarnished, of the actual man that
inhabited the giant's frame, and it had given her an odd, disturbing
suspicion that the strength upon which she leaned was in simple fact
scarcely equal to her own.
The way to Redlands lay through leafy woodlands through which here
and there the summer sea gleamed blue. Turning in at the open gates,
Muriel uttered an exclamation of delight. She seemed to have suddenly
entered fairyland. The house, long, low, rambling, roofed with thatch,
stood at the end of a winding drive that was bordered on both sides
by a blaze of rhododendron flowers. Down below her on the left was a
miniature glen from which arose the tinkle of running water. On her
right the trees grew thickly, completely shutting out the road.
"Oh, Blake!" she exclaimed. "What a perfect paradise!"
"Like it?" said Nick; and with a start she saw him coolly step out
from a shadowy path behind them and close the great iron gate.
Impulsively she pulled up and slipped to the ground. "Take my horse,
Blake," she said. "I must run down to that stream."
He obeyed her, not very willingly, and Nick with a chuckle turned and
plunged after her down the narrow path.


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