The Valley of Silent Men (Western Classic). James Oliver Curwood

Aren't you?"

      "Yes, very sure. If you had only arrived sooner—"

      "And I shall always think of you as a different kind of man-beast," she interrupted him. "It is really true that I shouldn't like to see you die. I want to get away before it happens. Would you care to have me kiss you?"

      For an instant Kent felt that his aorta was about to give away. "I—I would," he gasped huskily.

      "Then—close your eyes, please."

      He obeyed. She bent over him. He felt the soft touch of her hands and caught for an instant the perfume of her face and hair, and then the thrill of her lips pressed warm and soft upon his.

      She was not flushed or embarrassed when he looked at her again. It was as if she had kissed a baby and was wondering at its red face. "I've only kissed three men before you," she avowed. "It is strange. I never thought I should do it again. And now, good-by!" She moved quickly to the door.

      "Wait," he cried plaintively. "Please wait. I want to know your name. It is Marette—"

      "Radisson," she finished for him. "Marette Radisson, and I come from away off there, from a place we call the Valley of Silent Men." She was pointing into the north.

      "The North!" he exclaimed.

      "Yes, it is far north. Very far."

      Her hand was on the latch. The door opened slowly.

      "Wait," he pleaded again. "You must not go."

      "Yes, I must go. I have remained too long. I am sorry I kissed you. I shouldn't have done that. But I had to because you are such a splendid liar!"

      The door opened quickly and closed behind her. He heard her steps almost running down the hall, where not long ago he had listened to the last of O'Connor's.

      And then there was silence, and in that silence he heard her words again, drumming like little hammers in his head, "BECAUSE YOU ARE SUCH A SPLENDID LIAR!"