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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

Then he
stepped resolutely forward, forgetful of all other presence, and
clasped her hand in both his own. Neither spoke a word, yet each
understood something of what was in the heart of the other.
"Will you walk outside with me?" he asked, at last. "I have much to
say which I am sure you would rather hear alone."
She bent her head, and with a brief word of explanation to the others,
the young officer conducted her forth into the bright July sunshine.
They walked in silence side by side along the bank of the little
stream. Brant glanced furtively toward the sweet, girlish face. There
was a pallor on her countenance, a shadow in her eyes, yet she walked
with the same easy grace, her head firmly poised above her white
throat. The very sadness marking her features seemed to him an added
beauty.
He realized where they were going now, where memory had brought them
without conscious volition. As he led her across the rivulet she
glanced up into his face with a smile, as though a happy recollection
had burst upon her. Yet not a word was spoken until the barrier of
underbrush had been completely penetrated, and they stood face to face
under the trees.


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