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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Riders of the Silences"




CHAPTER 27

The heels had left two deeply defined gouges in the ground; there was
a sharp hollow where the head had lain, and a broad depression for the
shoulders. It was the impression of the body of a man--a large man
like Wilbur. Any hope, any doubt she might have had, slipped from her
mind, and despair rolled into it with an even, sullen current, like
the motion of the river.
It is strange what we do with our big moments of fear and sorrow and
even of joy. Now Mary stooped and carefully washed out the coffee-pot,
and filled it again with water higher up the bank; and turned back
toward the edge of the trees.
It was all subconscious, this completing of the task which Wilbur had
begun, and subconscious still was her careful rebuilding of the fire
till it flamed high, as though she were setting a signal to recall the
wanderer. But the flame, throwing warmth and red light across her
eyes, recalled her sharply to reality, and she looked up and saw the
dull dawn brightening beyond the dark evergreens.


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