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The Seventh Noon

Creator: Bartlett, Frederick Orin
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symptom. Victims of this habit had gone even further in their hot necessity for money. "Perhaps," she suggested hesitatingly, "perhaps this search to-night may inconvenience you financially. I wish you to feel free to spend without limit whatever you may find helpful. We have more than ample funds. Unfortunately I have on hand only a little money, but as soon as I can get to my bank--" "I have enough." He smiled as a new meaning to the phrase came to him. "More than enough." He glanced at the clock. Over half of his first day already gone. He heard the crunching wheels of the taxicab on the graveled road outside. Hurrying into the hall he took one of Arsdale's hats--he had lost his own in the machine--and slipped into his overcoat. Still he paused, curiously reluctant to leave her. He did not feel that there was very much waiting for him outside, and here--he would have been content to live his week in this old library. He had glimpsed a dozen volumes that he would have enjoyed handling. He would like to spread them out upon his knee before the fire and read to her at random from them. Yes, she must be there to complete the library. He was getting loose again in his thoughts. She was looking at him anxiously.
The South Pole; an account of the Norwegian antarctic expedition in the \"Fram,\" 1910-1912

To Face Page Roald Amundsen Frontispiece Approximate Bird's-eye View, Drawn from the First Telegraphic Account 1 Reproduced by permission of the Daily Chronicle The Opening of Roald Amundsen's Manuscript 1 Helmer Hanssen, Ice Pilot, a Member of the Polar Party 50 The "Fram's" Pigsty 60 The Pig's Toilet 60 Hoisting the Flag 90 A Patient 90 Some Members of the Expedition 92 Sverre Hassel 101 Oscar Wisting 102 In the North-east Trades 130 In the Rigging 134 Taking an Observation 134 Ronne Felt Safer when the Dogs were Muzzled 136 Starboard Watch on the Bridge 136 Olav Bjaaland, a Member of the Polar Party 136 In the Absence of Lady Partners, Ronne Takes a Turn with the
"I think we shall find him," he said confidently. "At any rate I shall come back in the morning and report." "This seems such an imposition--" she faltered. "Please don't look at it in that light," he pleaded earnestly. "I feel as though I were doing this for an old friend." "You are kind to consider it so." "You see we have been in the inner woods together." She smiled courageously. "Good night. I wish you were better guarded here," he added. He held out his hand quite frankly. She put her own within it for a moment. He grew dizzy at the mere touch of it. It was as though his Lady of the Mountains had suddenly become a living, tangible reality. The light touch of her fingers was as wine to him. They made the task before him seem an easy one. They made it a privilege. She thought that he was making a sacrifice in doing this for her when she was granting him the boon of returning upon the morrow. "Good night," he said again.