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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Frontier Stories"

It was a momentary shock
to the allusion she had been fostering, but she forgot it in the
pitiable contrast between his haggard face and his pomatumed hair and
beard, the jauntiness of his attire and the collapse of his invalid
figure. When she had satisfied herself that his sleep was natural, she
busied herself softly in arranging the miserable apartment. With a few
feminine touches she removed the slovenliness of misery, and placed the
loose material and ostentatious evidences of his work on one side.
Finding that he still slept, and knowing the importance of this natural
medication, she placed the refreshment she had brought by his side and
noiselessly quitted the apartment. Hurrying through the gathering
darkness between decks, she once or twice thought she heard footsteps,
and paused, but encountering no one, attributed the impression to her
over-consciousness. Yet she thought it prudent to go to the galley
first, where she lingered a few moments before returning to the cabin.
On entering she was a little startled at observing a figure seated at
her father's desk, but was relieved at finding it was Mr.


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