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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hunters of the Hills"


"I think," said Robert, upon whom the heat and thick air were beginning
to tell, "that I'd like to go outside and breathe a little fresh air."
"It is like a hothouse in here," said de Courcelles.
"It's but a step from this room to a little garden, where we can find
all the cool air we want."
"Then show the way," said Robert quickly. He was eager to escape from
the room, not alone for the sake of air, but because the place choked
him. After a period of excitement and mental intoxication the reaction
had come. The colors were growing dimmer, the perfume in the air turned
to poison, and he longed for the clean out-of-doors.
De Courcelles opened a small door and they stepped out. Robert did not
notice that Boucher instantly put down his cards and followed. Before
them was a grassy lawn with borders of rose bushes, and beyond, the vast
sweep of the hills, the river and the far shore showed dimly through the
dusk. The air, moved by a light wind, was crisp, fresh and pure, and, as
Robert breathed it deeply, he felt his head grow clear and cool.


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