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Woodrow, Nancy Mann Waddel, 1870-1935

"The Black Pearl"

"
The morning dawned, a blare of sunlight. Pearl, glancing from the window
just before they ate their early breakfast, could see that bridge was in
place. Both she and Harry were quiet. It was the last meal together in
the cabin, and more than once tears filled her eyes and ran down her
cheeks as she made a pretense of eating. "They're happy tears, Harry,
honest, they are," she assured him. "I guess I'm kind of locoed at the
thought of seeing Pop and Bob and Hughie again. Come on, let's hurry
down now and meet them." She stood up and drained her coffee cup and
then threw her cape about her. "Come on." She held out her hand to him
and smiled.


CHAPTER XV

The sun-flooded hillside showed plainly the path of the avalanche;
blank, featureless it lay, without sheltering tree or rock to diversify
its bald monotony. But it was bare no longer, for the brown earth was
covering her nakedness with a delicate mist of green. Beyond the sweep
of the avalanche the maples were swinging their tassels, and the
swelling buds of the oaks and aspens showed that they were almost ready
to burst into leaf; the air was full of bird calls and fluttering wings,
and the breeze, although chill, seemed ineffably soft in comparison with
its recent rigorous blasts.
Pearl and Seagreave had gone but a short distance from the cabin when
suddenly Pearl shielded her eyes with her hand. "Look," she cried
excitedly, and pointed to two men who were standing down by the bridge
evidently awaiting them, "I can't quite see from here, but it is, it
must be, Bob and Pop.


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