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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"The Port of Missing Men"


Her short covert riding-coat, buttoned close, marked clearly in the
starlight her erect figure; light wisps of loosened hair broke free under
her soft felt hat, and when she turned her head the wind caught the brim
and pressed it back from her face, giving a new charm to her profile.
He called after her once or twice at the start, but she did not pause or
reply; and he could not know what mood possessed her; or that once in
flight, in the security the horse gave her, she was for the first time
afraid of him. He had declared his love for her, and had offered to break
down the veil of mystery that made him a strange and perplexing figure.
His affairs, whatever their nature, were now at a crisis, he had said;
quite possibly she should never see him again after this ride. As she
waited at the gate she had known a moment of contrition and doubt as to
what she had done. It was not fair to her brother thus to give away his
secret to the enemy; but as the horse flew down the rough road her
blood leaped with the sense of adventure, and her pulse sang with the joy
of flight. Her thoughts were free, wild things; and she exulted in the
great starry vault and the cool heights over which she rode.


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