CUPID EN ROUTE
"Bon jour, madame!"
Prue, with fast-beating heart, managed a murmured response. The giant rubbed his chilled hands together before the stove and beamed amiably about the room. Finally his gaze went back to the girl.
"The snow she come hard," he announced with another flash of white teeth. "This one ver' bad night, no?"
Prue nodded. It would never do to let him suspect that she was afraid. She measured the distance to the door.
"Madame waits for the train? She is late perhaps?"
"Yes."
"Vraiment! She bad track. She bad road, yes, ver' bad road. Me, I come from Lacbas. Forty-two mile, madame. Ver' bad march."
He unwound his sash and opened his thick coat. Into one pocket after another his long fingers dipped. At last he found what he sought and left the stove and came straight toward Prue. She watched his
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