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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

He seems
almost to exercise some power of magic over her, don't you think?"
"Why frankly, Miss Spencer, I scarcely feel like discussing that topic
just now. There are so many duties pressing me--" and Brant took a
hasty step toward the open door, his attentive ear catching the sound
of a light footstep in the hallway. He met Naida just without, pale
and tearless. Both her hands were extended to him unreservedly.
"Tell me, will he live?"
"The doctor thinks yes."
"Thank God! Oh, thank God!" She pressed one hand against her heart to
control its throbbing. "You cannot know what this means to me." Her
eyes seemed now for the first time to mark his own deplorable
condition. "And you? You have not been hurt, Lieutenant Brant?"
He smiled back into her anxious eyes. "Nothing that soap and water and
a few days' retirement will not wholly remedy. My wounds are entirely
upon the surface. Shall I conduct you to him?"
She bowed, apparently forgetful that one of her hands yet remained
imprisoned in his grasp. "If I may go, yes. I told Mrs. Herndon I
should remain here if I could be of the slightest assistance.


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