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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The River's End"

Miriam Kirkstone watched him go, her slim hands
clutched at her breast, her eyes aglow with a new thought, a new hope;
and as he heard the gate slam behind him, a sobbing cry rose in her
throat, and she reached out her hands as if to call him back, for
something was telling her that through this man lay the way to her
salvation.
And her lips were moaning softly, "Ten days--ten days--and then--what?"

XIX
In those ten days all the wonders of June came up out of the south.
Life pulsed with a new and vibrant force. The crimson fire-flowers,
first of wild blooms to come after snow and frost, splashed the green
spaces with red. The forests took on new colors, the blue of the sky
grew nearer, and in men's veins the blood ran with new vigor and
anticipations. To Keith they were all this and more. Four years along
the rim of the Arctic had made it possible for him to drink to the full
the glory of early summer along the Saskatchewan. And to Mary Josephine
it was all new. Never had she seen a summer like this that was dawning,
that most wonderful of all the summers in the world, which comes in
June along the southern edge of the Northland.
Keith had played his promised part.


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