"Besides, I won't have him on the ranch." "Dad needs good hands," she said, with her eyes on the gray sage slopes.
Mention of Wilson Moore augmented the aloofness in her.

An annoyance pricked along her veins.
"Before we get any farther I'd like to know something.

Has Moore ever made love to you ?" Columbine felt that prickling augment to a hot, sharp wave of blood.

Why was she at the mercy of strange, quick, unfamiliar sensations?
Why did she hesitate over that natural query from Jack Belllounds?
"No.

He never has," she replied, presently.
"That's damn queer.