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The Hunted Woman by James Oliver Curwood
page 6 of 316 (01%)
tent--and it's respectable."

The stranger girl thanked her, and turned for her bag. As she left the car,
the Little Angel's eyes followed her with a malicious gleam that gave them
the strange glow of candles in a sepulchral cavern. The colours which she
unfurled to all seeking eyes were not secret, and yet she was filled with
an inward antagonism that this stranger with the wonderful blue eyes had
dared to see them and recognize them. She stared after the retreating
form--a tall, slim, exquisitely poised figure that filled her with envy and
a dull sort of hatred. She did not hear a step behind her. A hand fell
familiarly on her shoulder, and a coarse voice laughed something in her ear
that made her jump up with an artificial little shriek of pleasure. The man
nodded toward the end of the now empty car.

"Who's your new friend?" he asked.

"She's no friend of mine," snapped the girl. "She's another one of them
Dolly Dimples come out to save the world. She's that innocent she wonders
why TĂȘte Jaune ain't a nice place for ladies without escort. I thought I'd
help eggicate her a little an' so I sent her to Bill's place. Oh, my Lord,
I told her it was respectable!"

She doubled over the seat in a fit of merriment, and her companion seized
the opportunity to look out of the window.

The tall, blue-eyed stranger had paused for a moment on the last step of
the car to pin up her veil, fully revealing her face. Then she stepped
lightly to the ground, and found herself facing the sunlight and the
mountains. She drew a slow, deep breath between her parted lips, and turned
wonderingly, for a moment forgetful. It was the first time she had left the
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