Cressy by Bret Harte
page 89 of 196 (45%)
page 89 of 196 (45%)
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why had she come there? had they seen him arrive? and were mischievously
watching him? The sound of Cressy's voice and the lifting of the unprotected window near the door convinced him to the contrary. "There, that'll do. Now you two can step aside. 'Tave, take him over to yon fence, and keep him there till I get in. No--thank you, sir--I can assist myself. I've done it before. It ain't the first time I've been through this window, is it, 'Tave?" Ford's heart stopped beating. There was a moment of laughing expostulation, the sound of retreating voices, the sudden darkening of the window, the billowy sweep of a skirt, the faint quick flash of a little ankle, and Cressy McKinstry swung herself into the room and dropped lightly on the floor. She advanced eagerly up the moonlit passage between the two rows of benches. Suddenly she stopped; the master rose at the same moment with outstretched warning hand to check the cry of terror he felt sure would rise to her lips. But he did not know the lazy nerves of the girl before him. She uttered no outcry. And even in the faint dim light he could see only the same expression of conscious understanding come over her face that he had seen in the ball-room, mingled with a vague joy that parted her breathless lips. As he moved quickly forward their hands met; she caught his with a quick significant pressure and darted back to the window. "Oh, 'Tave!" (very languidly.) "Yes." |
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