She law him remove his hat and run his fingrs through his hair. His horse stamped impatiently, eager to be moving, and when he shifted his weight in the saddle, the leather creaked. Suddenly she felt a wild desire to speak out, to question him, to find who he was and where he was going, but most of all, why he had stopped here.
Yet she was hesitant to speak or to move for fear that the slightest sound or movement would shatter the moment's spell and leave her with nothing. As long as they both were silent, the intangible communion between them existed, and he remained for her the stuff of dreams.
(from Taggart, by Louis L'Amour)
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