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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Golden Snare"

I repeat it--dead stumped. I'd give a
million dollars if I could make Bram talk. I saw what was in his
eyes. YOU saw it--and that pretty pink went out of your face so
quick it seemed as though your heart must have stopped beating.
And yet you're trying to tell me he hasn't harmed you. My God--I
wish I could believe it!"
In her face he saw the reflection of the change that must have
come suddenly into his own.
"You're a good fifteen hundred miles from any other human being
with hair and eyes and color like yours," he continued, as though
in speaking his thoughts aloud to her some ray of light might
throw itself on the situation. "If you had something black about
you. But you haven't. You're all gold--pink and white and gold. If
Bram has another fit of talking he may tell me you came from the
moon--that a chasse-galere crew brought you down out of space to
keep house for him. Great Scott, can't you give me some sort of an
idea of who you are and where you same from?"
He paused for an answer--and she smiled at him.


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