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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Clarence"

Lincoln. Oh, I know," she went on hurriedly, as if conscious of his
irritation and seeking to allay it. "She was a woman and loved you, and
thought with your thoughts and saw only with your eyes. Yes, that's the
way with us,--I suppose we all do it!" she added bitterly.
"She had her own opinions," said Brant briefly, as he recovered himself.
Nevertheless, his manner so decidedly closed all further discussion that
there was nothing left for the young girl but silence. But it was broken
by her in a few moments in her old contemptuous voice and manner.
"Pray don't trouble yourself to accompany me any further, General Brant.
Unless, of course, you are afraid I may come across some of your--your
soldiers. I promise you I won't eat them."
"I am afraid you must suffer my company a little longer, Miss Faulkner,
on account of those same soldiers," returned Brant gravely. "You may not
know that this road, in which I find you, takes you through a cordon
of pickets. If you were alone you would be stopped, questioned, and,
failing to give the password, you would be detained, sent to the
guard-house, and"--he stopped, and fixed his eyes on her keenly as he
added, "and searched."
"You would not dare to search a woman!" she said indignantly, although
her flush gave way to a slight pallor.


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