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Comstock, Harriet T. (Harriet Theresa), 1860-

"The Place Beyond the Winds"

It's only
fair to warn you. You _do_ love me?"
"Is it love--when everything else is swept aside?"
"Yes."
"All but the longing--for the best?"
"Yes. That is love."
"Then, I love you."
"On ahead there is a tiny bluff, do not speak again until we reach it. A
strange and wonderful thing came to me there once--years ago. I want to
tell you about it, my beloved!"
Travers watched her as he spoke. Again that tremor ran through Priscilla.
It was nearly noon when they stopped, at Travers's word. They had come,
silently, up the trail, only their footsteps and their quicker breathing
breaking the awesome stillness. Their separate thoughts were bringing
them dangerously nearer together, trampling caution, warning, and purpose
beneath their young yearning for the vital meaning of life. When they
faced each other at last it was as if they had indeed been transfigured.
"Mine!" whispered Travers, stretching out his hands. "You are mine! Do
not struggle."
Priscilla put her hands in his, but did not speak.
"And now let us sit here. I want you to understand. You will try to
understand?"
"Yes.


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