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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Catriona"


I suppose she must have seen me from the open window. It did not
seem to me that I had stood there very long before I heard the
crunching of footsteps on the frozen snow, and turning somewhat
angrily (for I was in no spirit to be interrupted) saw Catriona
drawing near. She was all changed again, to the clocked stockings.
"Are we not to have our walk to-day?" said she.
I was looking at her in a maze. "Where is your brooch?" says I.
She carried her hand to her bosom and coloured high. "I will have
forgotten it," said she. "I will run upstairs for it quick, and
then surely we'll can have our walk?"
There was a note of pleading in that last that staggered me; I had
neither words nor voice to utter them; I could do no more than nod
by way of answer; and the moment she had left me, climbed into the
tree and recovered my flower, which on her return I offered her.
"I bought it for you, Catriona," said I.
She fixed it in the midst of her bosom with the brooch, I could
have thought tenderly.
"It is none the better of my handling," said I again, and blushed.


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