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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Swindler and Other Stories"

She did not feel afraid now
that Rivington was coming. She even began to think she had been rather
foolish, and wondered if he would think so too.
She began to go more slowly. Her feet felt heavier at every step. A few
yards ahead a golden-brown stream ran babbling through the wood. It was
close to the path. She would sit down beside it and rest till he
arrived.
She reached the stream, sank down upon a bed of moss, then found the
heat intolerable, and began impulsively to loosen her shoes. What if he
did discover her a second time barefooted? He had not minded before;
neither had she. And no one else would come that way. He had even lent
her his handkerchief to dry her feet. Perhaps he would again.
Once more a strictly private little smile twitched the corners of her
mouth. She slipped off her stockings and plunged her tired feet into the
cool, running water.
Leaning back against a tree-trunk she closed her eyes. An exquisite
sense of well-being stole over her. He would not be here yet. What did
it matter if she dozed? The bubbling of the water lulled her. She rested
her feet upon a sunny brown stone. She turned her cheek upon her arm.
And in her sleep she heard the thudding of a horse's hoofs, and dreamed
that her knight errant was close at hand.


X
THE TIGER'S PREY

With a start she opened her eyes. Some one was drawing near. It must be
later than she had thought.


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