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Raine, William MacLeod, 1871-1954

"Wyoming, Story of Outdoor West"

How could I have
guessed that, with your reputation, you could afford to indulge
in a rosary?" she mocked.
"Good night." He offered his hand.
"Don't go yet," she coaxed.
He shook his head. "Duty, y'u know."
"Stay only a little longer. Just ten minutes more."
His vanity purred, so softly she stroked it. "Can't. Wish I
could. Y'u hear how noisy things are getting. I've got to take
charge. So-long."
She stood close, looking up at him with a face of seductive
appeal.
"Don't go yet. Please!"
The triumph of victory mounted to his head. "I'll come back when
I've done what I've got to do."
"No, no. Stay a little longer just a little."
"Not a minute, sweetheart."
He bent to kiss her, and a little clenched fist struck his face.
"Don't you dare!" she cried.
The outraged woman in her, curbed all evening with an iron bit,
escaped from control. Delightedly he laughed. The hot spirit in
her pleased him mightily. He took her little hands and held them
in one of his while he smiled down at her. "I guess that kiss
will keep, my girl, till I come back."
"My God! Are you going to kill your own cousin?"
All her terror, all her detestation and hatred of him, looked
haggardly out of her unmasked face.


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