You'd travel in a circle and fall
into their hands in a day."
"Possibly."
She was still patient.
"Follow me close, Bard. I mean that if you don't do what I say I'll cut
loose and leave you alone here."
He was silent, enjoying her sternness, glad to have roused her, no
matter what the consequences; knowing that each second heightened the
climax.
Apparently she interpreted his speechlessness in a different way. She
said after a moment: "That sounds like quittin' cold on you. I won't do
it unless you try some fool thing like riding back toward Drew."
He waited again as long as he dared, then: "Don't you see that the last
thing I want is to keep you with me?"
There was no pleasure in that climax. She sat with parted lips, her
hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring at him. He became as vividly
conscious of her femininity as he had been when she laughed in the dark.
There was the same sustained pulsing, vital emotion in this silence.
He explained hastily: "A girl's reputation is a fragile thing, Sally."
And she recovered herself with a start, but not before he saw and
understood.
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