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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Golden Snare"

"That is, if you belong
to him. And if you didn't why would you stand there with your arms
about his neck and he hugging you up like that!"
A few minutes before he had crumpled the picture in his hand and
dropped it on the floor. He picked it up now and mechanically
smoothed it out as he made his observation, through the window.
The pack had returned to the stockade. By the aimless manner in
which they had scattered he concluded that for the time at least
their mysterious enemies had drawn away from the corral.
Celie had not moved. She was watching him earnestly. It seemed to
him, as he went to her with the picture, that a new and anxious
questioning had come into her eyes. It was as if she had
discovered something in him which she had not observed before,
something which she was trying to analyze even as he approached
her. He felt for the first time a sense of embarrassment. Was it
possible that she had comprehended some word or thought of what he
had expressed to her? He could not believe it And yet, a woman's
intuition--
He held out the picture.


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