The thought of setting foot within Annixter's dining-room and bed-room terrified her, and in the end her mother had taken over that part of her work.

Of the two meetings with the master of Quien Sabe, one had been a mere exchange of good mornings as the two happened to meet over by the artesian well; the other, more complicated, had occurred in the dairy-house again, Annixter, pretending to look over the new cheese press, asking about details of her work.

When this had happened on that previous occasion, ending with Annixter's attempt to kiss her, Hilma had been talkative enough, chattering on from one subject to another, never at a loss for a theme.

But this last time was a veritable ordeal.

No sooner had Annixter appeared than her heart leaped and quivered like that of the hound-harried doe.