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The Girl from Montana by Grace Livingston Hill
page 102 of 221 (46%)
trustworthy as he had tried to be, would find her and help her.

But that thought was not pleasant. He put it away impatiently. It cut him.
Why had she talked so much about the lady? The lady! Ah! How was it the
lady came no more into his thoughts? The memory of her haughty face no
more quickened his heart-beats. Was he fickle that he could lose what he
had supposed was a lifelong passion in a few days?

The darkness was creeping on. Where was Elizabeth? Had she found a refuge
for the night? Or was she wandering on an unknown trail, hearing voices
and oaths through the darkness, and seeing the gleaming of wild eyes low
in the bushes ahead? How could he have left her? How could he? He must go
back even yet. He must, he must, _he must_!

And so it went on through the long night.

The train stopped at several places to take on water; but there seemed to
be no human habitation near, or else his eyes were dim with his trouble.
Once, when they stopped longer than the other times, he got up and walked
the length of the car and down the steps to the ground. He even stood
there, and let the train start jerkily on till his car had passed him, and
the steps were just sliding by, and tried to think whether he would not
stay, and go back in some way to find her. Then the impossibility of the
search, and of his getting back in time to do any good, helped him to
spring on board just before it was too late. He walked back to his seat
saying to himself, "Fool! Fool!"

It was not till morning that he remembered his baggage and went in search
of it. There he found a letter from his cousin, with other letters and
telegrams explaining the state of affairs at home. He came back to his
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