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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Frontier Stories"

She faltered that
Dunn had fainted from weakness, and that she had dragged him out of
danger. "He will never interfere with us--I mean," she said softly,
"with _me_ again. I can promise you that as well as if he had sworn
it."
"Let him pass now," said Low; "that will come later on," he added,
unconsciously repeating her thought in a tone that made her heart sick.
"But tell me, Teresa, why did you go to Excelsior?"
She buried her head still deeper, as if to hide it. He felt her broken
heart beat against his own; he was conscious of a depth of feeling her
rival had never awakened in him. The possibility of Teresa loving him
had never occurred to his simple nature. He bent his head and kissed
her. She was frightened, and unloosed her clinging arms; but he
retained her hand, and said, "We will leave this accursed place, and
you shall go with me as you said you would; nor need you ever leave me,
unless you wish it."
She could hear the beating of her own heart through his words; she
longed to look at the eyes and lips that told her this, and read the
meaning his voice alone could not entirely convey.


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