Part 28 (2/2)

”You think I'm pretty, then?” she asked, dreamily, not occupied at all with that thought.

He uttered a contemptuous laugh.

”Come closer,” he said, reaching for her with a clumsy bandaged hand.

Down upon her knees Columbine fell. Both hands flew to cover her face.

And as she swayed forward she shook violently, and there escaped her lips a little, m.u.f.fled sound.

”Why--Collie!” cried Moore, astounded. ”Good Heavens! Don't cry! I--I didn't mean anything. I only wanted to feel you--touch your hand.”

”Here,” she answered, blindly holding out her hand, groping for his till she found it. Her other was still pressed to her eyes. One moment longer would Columbine keep her secret--hide her eyes--revel in the unutterable joy and sadness of this crisis that could come to a woman only once.

”What in the world?” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the cowboy, now bewildered. But he possessed himself of the trembling hand offered. ”Collie, you act so strange.... You're not crying!... Am I only locoed, or flighty, or what?

Dear, look at me.”

Columbine swept her hand from her eyes with a gesture of utter surrender.

”Wilson, I'm ashamed--and sad--and gloriously happy,” she said, with swift breathlessness.

”Why?” he asked.

”Because of--of something I have to tell you,” she whispered.

”What is that?”

She bent over him.

”Can't you guess?”

He turned pale, and his eyes burned with intense fire.

”I won't guess ... I daren't guess.”

”It's something that's been true for years--forever, it seems--something I never dreamed of till last night,” she went on, softly.

”Collie!” he cried. ”Don't torture me!”

”Do you remember long ago--when we quarreled so dreadfully--because you kissed me?” she asked.

”Do you think I could kiss _you_--and live to forget?”

”I love you!” she whispered, shyly, feeling the hot blood burn her.

That whisper transformed Wilson Moore. His arm flashed round her neck and pulled her face down to his, and, holding her in a close embrace, he kissed her lips and cheeks and wet eyes, and then again her lips, pa.s.sionately and tenderly.

Then he pressed her head down upon his breast.

”My G.o.d! I can't believe! Say it again!” he cried, hoa.r.s.ely.

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