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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Golden Snare"

Celie took it and for a space looked at
it steadily without raising her eyes to meet his. When she did
look at him the blue in her eyes was so wonderful and deep and the
soul that looked out of them was so clear to his own vision that
the shame of that moment's hypocrisy when he had stood with his
arm about her submerged him completely. If she had not understood
him she at least HAD GUESSED.
"Min fader," she said quietly, with the tip of her little
forefinger on the man in the picture. "Min fader."
For a moment he thought she had spoken in English.
"Your--your father?" he cried.
She nodded.
"Oo-ee-min fader!"
"Thank the Lord," gasped Philip. And then he suddenly added,
"Celie, have you any more cartridges for this pop-gun? I feel like
licking the world!"


CHAPTER XIV


He tried to hide his jubilation as he talked of more cartridges.
He forgot Bram, and the Eskimos waiting outside the corral, and
the apparent hopelessness of their situation. HER FATHER! He
wanted to shout, or dance around the cabin with Celie in his arms.


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