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Bindloss, Harold, 1866-1945

"Winston of the Prairie"

His voice reached her
fitfully through the roar of wind, until sight and hearing were lost
alike as the white haze closed about them, and it was not until the
wild gust had passed she heard him again. He was apparently shouting,
"Come nearer."
Maud Barrington was not sure whether she obeyed him or he seized and
drew her towards him. She, however, felt the furs piled high about her
neck and that there was an arm round her shoulder, and for a moment was
sensible of an almost overwhelming revulsion from the contact. She was
proud and very dainty, and fancied she knew what this man had been,
while now she was drawn in to his side, and felt her chilled blood
respond to the warmth of his body. Indeed she grew suddenly hot to the
neck, and felt that henceforward she could never forgive him or
herself, but the mood passed almost as swiftly, for again the awful
blast shrieked about them and she only remembered her companion's
humanity, as the differences of sex and character vanished under that
destroying cold. They were no longer man and woman, but only beings of
flesh and blood, clinging desperately to the life that was in them, for
the first rush of the Western snowstorm has more than a physical
effect, and man exposed to its fury loses all but his animal instincts
in the primitive struggle with the elements.
Then, while the snow folded them closely in its white embrace during a
lull, the girl recovered herself, and her strained voice was faintly
audible.


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