"About--what he meant to do now."
"Ahuh! An' thet's homesteadin' the Sage Creek Valley?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you want him to do thet?"
"I! Indeed I didn't."
"Columbine, not so long ago you told me this fellar wasn't sweet on you. An' do you still say that to me--are you still insistin' he ain't in love with you?"
"He never said so--I never believed it ... and now I'm sure--he isn't!"
"Ahuh! Wal, thet same day you was jest as sure you didn't care anythin' particular fer him. Are you thet sure now?"
"No!" whispered Columbine, very low. She trembled with a suggestion of unknown forces. Not to save a new and growing pride would she evade any question from this man upon whom she had no claim, to whom she owed her life and her bringing up. But something cold formed in her.
Belllounds, self-centered and serious as he strangely was, seemed to check his probing, either from fear of hearing more from her or from an awakening of former kindness. But her reply was a shock to him, and, throwing down his pencil with the gesture of a man upon whom decision was forced, he rose to tower over her.