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Bonner, Geraldine, 1870-1930

"The Emigrant Trail"

"
David gave a gasping moan, his arms relaxed, and he fell limply
backward on the ground. They sprang toward him and Susan seeing his
peaked white face, the eyes half open, thought he was dead, and dropped
beside him, a crouched and staring shape of terror.
"What is it? What's the matter?" she cried, raising wild eyes to
Courant.
"Nothing at all," said that unmoved person, squatting down on his heels
and thrusting his hand inside David's shirt. "Only a faint. Why,
where's your nerve? You're nearly as white as he is."
His eyes were full of curiosity as he looked across the outstretched
figure at her frightened face.
"I--I--thought for a moment he was dead," she faltered.
"And so you were going to follow his example and die on his body?" He
got up. "Stay here and I'll go and get some water." As he turned away
he paused and, looking back, said, "Why didn't you do the fainting?
That's more your business than his," gave a sardonic grin and walked
off.
Susan raised the unconscious head and held it to her bosom. Alone,
with no eye looking, she pressed her lips on his forehead.


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