Prev | Current Page 188 | Next

Bonner, Geraldine, 1870-1930

"The Emigrant Trail"

His glance, shifting to the distance, saw the scattered dots
of the disappearing buffalo, the shadows sloping across the sand hills,
and the long expanse of lupines blotting into a thick foam of lilac
blue.
Susan stirred, and he woke from his musings with a start. She sat up,
the blanket falling from her shoulders, and looking at him with
sleep-filled eyes, smiled the sweet, meaningless smile of a
half-awakened child. Her consciousness had not yet fully returned, and
her glance, curiously clear and liquid, rested on his without
intelligence. The woman in her was never more apparent, her seduction
never more potent. Her will dormant, her bounding energies at low ebb,
she looked a thing to nestle, soft and yielding, against a man's heart.
"Have I slept long?" she said stretching, and then, "Isn't it cold."
"Come near the fire," he answered. "I've built it up while you were
asleep."
She came, trailing the blanket in a languid hand, and sat beside him.
He drew it up about her shoulders and looked into her face. Meeting
his eyes she broke into low laughter, and leaning nearer to him
murmured in words only half articulated:
"Oh, David, I'm so sleepy.


Pages:
176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200
906 brak hosta 906 system wymiany linkow no host