[The Courage of Marge O’Doone by James Oliver Curwood]@TWC D-Link book
The Courage of Marge O’Doone

CHAPTER X
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He could not get Tavish out of his mind; Tavish, the haunted man; Tavish the man who had fled from the Firepan Creek country at just about the time the girl in the picture had stood on the rock beside the pool; Tavish, terror-driven by a spirit of the dead! He did not attempt to reason the matter, or bare the folly of his alarm.

He did not ask himself about the improbability of it all, but accepted without equivocation that strong impression as it had come to him--the conviction that the girl on the rock and the woman in the coach were in some way identified with the flight of Tavish, the man he had never seen, from that far valley in the northwest mountains.
The questions he asked himself now were not to establish in his own mind either the truth or the absurdity of this conviction.

He was determining with himself whether or not to confide in Father Roland.

It was more than delicacy that made him hesitate; it was almost a personal shame.
For a long time he had kept within his breast the secret of his own tragedy and dishonour.

That it was _his_ dishonour, almost as much as the woman's, had been his own conviction; and how, at last, he had come to reveal that corroding sickness in his soul to a man who was almost a stranger was more than he could understand.


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