Birds began twittering animatedly as
the beat of the day cooled and they came forth from their shady retreats--and
still Annie-Many-Ponies sat on the little billtop, within easy calling
distance of the cabin, and never once looked down that way. Still the little
black dog curled at her feet and slept. For all the movement these two made,
they might have been of stone; the pine above was more unquiet than they.
Ramon, watching her while he smoked many cigarettes, became filled with a
vague uneasiness What was she thinking? What did she mean to do? He began to
have faint doubts of her coming down to him. He began to be aware of something
in her nature that was unlike those other women; something more inflexible,
more silent, something that troubled him even while he told himself that she
was like all the rest and he would be her master.
"Bah! She thinks to play with me, Ramon! Then I will go up and I will show
her--she will follow weeping at my heels--like that dog of hers that some day
I shall kill!"
He got up and threw away his cigarette, glanced within and saw that Bill and
Luis still slept, and started up the hill to where that motionless figure sat
beneath the pine and kept her face turned from him.
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