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Bonner, Geraldine, 1870-1930

"The Emigrant Trail"

Now in a
flash of clairvoyance he saw truly, and feeling the joy of life
slipping from him, faltered:
"Have I made a mistake? Don't you care?"
It was her opportunity, she was master of her fate. But her promise
was still a thing that held, the moment had not come when she saw
nothing but her own desire, and to gain it would have sacrificed all
that stood between. His stricken look, his expression of nerving
himself for a blow, pierced her, and her words rushed out in a burst of
contrition.
"Of course, of course, I do. Don't doubt me. Don't. But-- Oh,
David, don't torment me. Don't ask anything like that now. I can't, I
can't. I'm not ready--not yet."
Her voice broke and she put her hand to her mouth to hide its
trembling. Over it, her eyes, suddenly brimming with tears, looked
imploringly into his.
It was a heart-tearing sight to the lover. He forgot himself and,
without knowing what he did, opened his arms to inclose her in an
embrace of pity and remorse.
"Oh, dearest, I'll never ask it till you're willing to come to me," he
cried, and saw her back away, with upheld shoulders raised in defense
against his hands.


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