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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 1, 1888)
IHE WEST SHORE. mMiiH m"""'.1" " .MMI)t vigorous m,. M icp.rfl swimming now, and the voice was a half sob, as she murmured, looking straight into the -l ih Ana " . 1 rr i-. I Wliof wnnln I Tint civa n ea j)ear old ZjeKB i 1 1 " o v uv 'll f, air Benfrereserved the nght keeping that knowl- f nio of more than one pair ; . " bappy Bnrprise. She turned m 355 PZtg2 3 him wd heId out 0116 8ma11, imeled n. n b .V I in production, !.! LeMive hi ovo fA? He err- minI cry! I iI 15 fyri dwivo hira ? Tbilisi form awm ml to tot U r and reel. Tie Un! were out- I .V&VJi tr-!chM and convul- '' '! tiuly rlrvtjrfvl logclh. y? rr. Heiprangtober ik Wet cyt wore t.ffl'Q rivet! on the jic W-Rr turc m if hold by - f Mise Ui!iik ij'll. j I W-Ming the chiv- airy of a true knight, -rr; y it oem aceot-M Lrr- " Minium, arc you ill ? Cm 1 1 of n r. 8U luly turned lard hita & hit? fr kt a jfiir of Mpj hire with a look in them that bordered on Urn. The faro had the same pure, oval outlines, the Mt&e n-wt, angi-lic expression, and soft radiance of the )., that oul Rt jjm jrom the locket. He ! wml lack a pw, then gasped in utter aston-ilr-f"t.t - " You- wr-Viol, t Brockton!" KtgM ream took alarm at American freedom, l rr t twaWl, printed. She recovered herself U as t M and drew Lorself up with flashing eyes vVU' I am Paul Renfrew the iLe lXi Ui 8i('rri1 stains this Bummer f I I if I thank you, sir, more than you may ever know." Fingers touched for one brief second, and an elec tric thrill swept over each. Blue eyes looked into ar dent brown ones, and trembled at the swift internal upheaval. A moment later she said, looking away from him r , and at the picture . "Would you part with ,l the painting, Mr. Ren frew ? I would take it on your own terms." A red flame swept to his cheek. "Money can not purchase it, and there is but one thing in the whole world that I would accept in ex change for it" His voice was hoarse with suppressed passion. His eyes glowed, and seemed to reach her where she stood. She stirred uneasily. " What is it ? " she gasped, under her breath, and still gazing at the picture. What madness urged him on? It certainly was madness. But Renfrew had a reckless, Bohemian dash about him, and he would dare it, even though he lost. He took a step nearer, and whispered through his teeth, while the surging crowd jostled by " Miss Brockton-" She trembled visibly and put up one hand as if to to ward off the expected words. " Oh, hush! You must not" " By Heaven, I will, and you shall hear me. It it s yourself! " Without even a glance toward him, she turned lite a frightened doe and fled to the safe shelter of the Lady Margaret In the hours of cool reflection that followed, Renfrew had the satisfaction of calling him self an ass many times that day, and many days there after. Did he play a losing game? The writer of twj story takes great pleasure in chronicling, and I tm my readers will in perusing, that, about the holiday the Lady Margaret Fanshawe returned to LamWJ Place alone. She declared herself most shanieW