Her eyes were bright
and her color high as she watched Lawler, who was seated at the table
with his back to her.
"You don't feel much like talking, do you?"
"No," he said. "According to the way this norther is whooping it up
we'll run out of talk before we can break trail out of here."
"Do you mean that the storm may last some days?"
"There is no telling. At this time of the year they are mighty
uncertain. I've known them to stick around for a month or more."
She sat very silent, and for a time did not even move her lips. Stealing
a swift glance at her, expecting to see a worried light in her eyes,
Lawler noted that there was a slight--a very slight smile on her lips.
He was amazed, incredulous, and he stole another glance at her to make
certain. There was no denying it--there was a smile in the eyes that
were gazing meditatively past him into the fire; a smile on her
lips--giving him proof that the prospect of remaining alone in the cabin
with him had not crushed her--had not brought the hysterical protests
that he had feared. She was plainly pleased, possibly considering the
thing an adventure which would have no damaging consequences.
With a malice in his eyes that she did not see--for he looked gravely at
her, he said, slowly:
"Listen, Miss Wharton!"
He raised a hand and looked at the north window.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203