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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Courage of Marge O'Doone"

It may be that the Girl sensed his voiceless exaltation, for up
through the soft billows of her hair that lay crumpled on his breast
she whispered:
"You love me a great deal, my _Sakewawin_?"
"More than life," he replied.
Her voice roused him. For a few moments he had forgotten the cabin, had
forgotten that Brokaw and Hauck had existed, and that they were now
dead. He held her back from him, looking into her face out of which all
fear and horror had gone in its great happiness; a face filled with the
joyous colour sent surging there by the wild beating of her heart, eyes
confessing their adoration without shame, without concealment, without a
droop of the long lashes behind which they might have hidden. It was
wonderful, that love shining straight out of their blue, marvellous
depths!
"We must go now," he said, forcing himself to break the spell. "Two have
escaped, Marge. It is possible, if there are others at the Nest...."
His words brought her back to the thing they had passed through. She
glanced in a startled way over the valley, then shook her head.
"There are two others," she said. "But they will not follow us,
_Sakewawin_. If they should, we shall be over the mountain."
She braided her hair as he adjusted his pack.


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