The Hunted Woman - James Oliver Curwood - Bog

It was all new-most of it singularly dramatic and even appalling to the woman who sat with the pearl-gray veil drawn closely about her face. For eighteen hours she had been a keenly attentive, wide-eyed, and partly frightened bit of humanity in this onrush of "the horde." She had heard a voice behind her speak of it as "the horde"-a deep, thick, gruff voice which she knew without looking had filtered its way through a beard. She agreed with the voice.