Prev | Current Page 223 | Next

Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Courage of Marge O'Doone"

Perhaps it was the way her hair fell in a tangled riot of
curling tresses over her shoulders and breast; the slimness of her; the
shortness of her skirt; the unfaltering clearness of the great, blue
eyes that were staring at him; and, above all else, the manner in which
she had spoken her name. The bear might have been nothing more than a
rock to him now, against which she was leaning. He did not hear Baree's
low growling. He had travelled a long way to find her, and now that she
stood there before him in flesh and blood he was not interested in much
else. It was a rather difficult situation. He had known her so long, she
had been with him so constantly, filling even his dreams, that it was
difficult for him to find words in which to begin speech. When they did
come they were most commonplace; his voice was quiet, with an assured
and protecting note in it.
"My name is David Raine," he said. "I have come a great distance to find
you."
It was a simple and unemotional statement of fact, with nothing that was
alarming in it, and yet the girl shrank closer against her bear. The
huge brute was standing without the movement of a muscle, his small
reddish eyes fixed on David.
"I won't go back!" she said.


Pages:
211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235