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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Golden Snare"

Swift as a flash she shot the
bolt, and there came the lunge of heavy bodies outside. They could
hear the snapping of jaws and the snarling whine of the beasts.
Philip had never seen a face whiter than the girl's had gone. She
covered it with her hands, and he could see her trembling. A bit
of a sob broke hysterically from her lips.
He knew of what she was thinking--the horrible thing she was
hiding from her eyes. It was plain enough to him now. Twenty
seconds more and they would have had him. And then--
He drew in a deep breath and gently uncovered her face. Her hands
shivered in his. And then a great throb of joy repaid him for his
venture into the jaws of death as he saw the way in which her
beautiful eyes were looking at him.
"Celie--my little mystery girl--I've discovered something," he
cried huskily, holding her hands so tightly that it must have hurt
her. "I'm almost glad you can't understand me, for I wouldn't
blame you for being afraid of a man who told you he loved you an
hour or two after he first saw you.


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