SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 125 | Next

Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Flaming Forest"

"
For the first time the quiet of her eyes gave way to a warm fire.
"It was hard work," she said, and the note in her voice gave him
warning that he was approaching the dead-line again. "Bateese says
I was a fool for doing it. And if you saw two of me, or three or
four, it doesn't matter. Are you through questioning me, M'sieu
David? If so, I have a number of things to do."
He made a gesture of despair. "No, I am not through. But why ask
you questions if you won't answer them?"
"I simply can not. You must wait."
"For your husband?"
"Yes, for St. Pierre."
He was silent for a moment, then said, "I raved about a number of
things when I was sick, didn't I?"
"You did, and especially about what you thought happened in the
sand. You called this--this other person--the Fire Goddess. You
were so near dying that of course it wasn't amusing. Otherwise it
would have been. You see MY hair is black, almost!" Again, in a
quick movement, her fingers were crumpling the lustrous coils on
the crown of her head.
"Why do you say 'almost'?" he asked.
"Because St. Pierre has often told me that when I am in the sun
there are red fires in it.


Pages:
113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137