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The Bars of Iron by Ethel M. (Ethel May) Dell
page 69 of 646 (10%)
There had been a sprinkling of snow the day before, and the grass was
crisp and rough. She felt it crush under her feet with a keen sense of
enjoyment. Instinctively she put all her buoyant strength into the run.
She left Jeanie behind, overtook and passed the two younger children, and
raced like a hare down the slope. Keenly the wind whistled past her, and
she rejoiced to feel its clean purity rush into her lungs. She was for
the moment absurdly, rapturously happy,--a child amongst children.

The sun went out of sight, and the darkness of the valley swallowed her.
She sped on, fleet-footed, flushed and laughing, moving as if on wings.

She neared the dark line of wood, and saw the stark, outstretched
branches of the oak that was her goal. In the same instant she caught
sight of a man's figure standing beneath it, apparently waiting for her.

He had evidently just come out of the wood. He carried a gun on his
shoulder, but the freedom of his pose was so striking that she likened
him on the instant to a Roman gladiator.

She could not stop herself at once though she checked her speed, and when
she finally managed to come to a stand, she was close to him.

He stepped forward to meet her with a royal air of welcome. "How nice of
you to come and call on me!" he said.

His dark eyes shone mischievously as they greeted her, and she was too
flushed and dishevelled to stand upon ceremony. Pantingly she threw back
her gay reply.

"This is the children's happy hunting ground, not mine, I suppose, if the
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