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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"A Sappho of Green Springs"

Coming thence one day she espied him on the
mountain-side leaning against a projecting ledge in an attitude so rapt
and immovable that she felt compelled to approach him. He appeared to
be dumbly absorbed in the prospect, which might have intoxicated a saner
mind.
Half veiled by the heat that rose quiveringly from the fiery canyon
below, the domain of Burnt Ridge stretched away before him, until,
lifted in successive terraces hearsed and plumed with pines, it was at
last lost in the ghostly snow-peaks. But the practical Josephine seized
the opportunity to try once more to awaken the slumbering memory of her
pupil. Following his gaze with signs and questions, she sought to draw
from him some indication of familiar recollection of certain points of
the map thus unrolled behind him. But in vain. She even pointed out the
fateful shadow of the overhanging ledge on the road where she had picked
him up--there was no response in his abstracted eyes. She bit her lips;
she was becoming irritated again.


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