Page 179 (2/2)

deep-driven, rusty staple

"The country folk believe his spirit still haunts the place," I

went on, "and seldom, or never, venture foot within the Hollow"

"And are you not afraid of this ghost?"

"No," said I

"It htfully so"

"Are you so fond of solitude?"

"Yes, for solitude is thought, and to think is to live"

"And what did you do with the--pistol?"

"I dropped it out of sight behind ave it to you"

"Because, if you re what I am asked, and your manner

was--scarcely courteous"

"You also objected to my eyes, I think?"

"Yes," she nodded

"Hunant de casements, who roared and bellowed down the

chie; but here, in the

war, rather, this

wolow

And where the light touched her hair it woke strange fires, red and

bronze And it was very rebellious hair, with little tendrils that

gleaainst her temples, and small, defiant

curls that seemed to strive to hide behind her ear, or, bold and

wanton, to kiss her snowy neck--out of sheer bravado