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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The River's End"

All desire to go after Shan Tung left him. He would have
remained there forever. Twice she bent down and touched his forehead
lightly with her lips. Again his arm was round her soft little waist,
and his heart was pumping like a thing overworked. It was Mary
Josephine, finally, who sent him on his mission, but not before she
stood on tiptoe, her hands on his shoulders, giving him her mouth to
kiss.
An army at his back could not have strengthened Keith with a vaster
determination than that kiss. There would be no more quibbling. His
mind was made up definitely on the point. And his first move was to
head straight for the Kirkstone house on the hill.
He did not get as far as the door this time. He caught a vision of
Miriam Kirkstone in the shrubbery, bareheaded, her hair glowing
radiantly in the sun. It occurred to him suddenly that it was her hair
that roused the venom in him when he thought of her as the property of
Shan Tung. If it had been black or even brown, the thought might not
have emphasized itself so unpleasantly in his mind. But that vivid gold
cried out against the crime, even against the girl herself. She saw him
almost in the instant his eyes fell upon her, and came forward quickly
to meet him.


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