Success - A Novel by Samuel Hopkins Adams
page 75 of 811 (09%)
page 75 of 811 (09%)
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musing and aimless.
Silence fell between the two women as they rode. Once Miss Welland stopped to adjust her traveling-bag which had shifted a little in the straps. "Is riding cross-saddle uncomfortable for you?" asked Miss Van Arsdale. "Not in the least. I often do it at home." Suddenly her mount, a thick-set, soft-going pony shied, almost unseating her. A gun had banged close by. Immediately there was a second report. Miss Van Arsdale dismounted, replacing a short-barreled shot-gun in its saddle-holster, stepped from the trail, and presently returned carrying a brace of plump, slate-gray birds. "Wild dove," she said, stroking them. "You'll find them a welcome addition to a meager bill of fare." "I should be quite content with whatever you usually have." "Doubted," replied the other. "I live rather a frugal life. It saves trouble." "And I'm afraid I'm going to make you trouble. But you brought it upon yourself." "By interfering. Exactly. How old are you?" "Twenty." |
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