A Daughter of the Dons - A Story of New Mexico Today by William MacLeod Raine
page 27 of 283 (09%)
page 27 of 283 (09%)
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"I expect you'll have to listen to what I've got to say, ma'am." "Are you going to scold me? Was I precipitate? Perhaps you were attempting suicide. Forgive, I pray." He ignored her raillery, and told her what he thought of a courage so fine and ready. He permitted a smile to temper his praise, as he added: "You mustn't go jumping in the river after strangers if you don't want them to say, 'Thank you kindly.' You find four out of five of them want to, don't you?" "It is not yet a habit of mine. You're the first" "I hope I'll be the last." She began to wring out the bottom of her skirt, and he was on his knees at once to do it for her. "That will do very nicely," she presently said, the color billowing her cheeks. He gathered wood and lit a fire, being fortunate enough to find his match-case had been waterproof. He piled on dry branches till the fire roared and licked out for the moisture in their clothes. "I've been wondering how you happened to see me in the water," he said. "You were riding past, I expect?" "No, I was sketching. I saw you when you came up to eat your lunch, and |
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