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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"

She was seated as I finally approached,
and her face was turned aside as she spoke to the camp cook, with whom
she seemed on the best of terms. "Hurry, Daniels," she called out. "I'm
absolutely starved to death!"
There was something in her voice which sounded familiar to me, and I
sought a glance at her face, which the next instant was hid by the rim
of her hat as she looked down, removing her long gloves. At least I saw
her hands--small hands, sun-browned now. On one finger was a plain gold
ring, with a peculiar setting--the figure of a rose, carved deep into
the gold!
"After all," thought I to myself, "there are some things which can not
be duplicated. Among these, hair like this, a profile like this, a
figure like this." I gazed in wonder, then in certainty.
No there was no escaping the conclusion. This was not another girl, but
the same girl seen again. A moment's reflection showed how possible and
indeed natural this might be. My chance companion in the river accident
had simply gone on up the river a little farther and then started west
precisely as Mandy McGovern had explained.
Belknap caught the slight restraint as the girl and I both raised our
eyes.


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