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 It was not prompted by accidental harmony, this answer, she felt he had a right to know all:

"When I first loved Robert, he was a splendid masterman, and so tender of me. He seemed the breath of my body; his heart, not mine, beating within me. I fancy now that his love was only a reflection from the flame that burned in my soul, for if it were not true surely that love would have reformed him."

"No, he does love you, and you will yet be happy together."

She was hungry for his assurance, and her "Heaven bless you for your sympathy," was spoken earnestly.

"But I wish he would come. Suppose he has gotten into that quick-sand in the creek bed."

'Suppose he has swallowed the gun."

"Don't speak so lightly," she corrected.

Marrion thought as he noted her anxiety: "Blind devotion is the sainthood of woman."

"Now, here he comes. I hope you are happy," but a chill gripped his heart as he saw it was a stranger, whose walk indicated haste.

"Ain't this here whar Mars' Milburn's wife stay?"

"Yes, what is it?" asked Marrion.