She completely forgot that she wanted a rhyme for "hills." What were towns people doing here?
And how did they get here?
They had not ridden up the coulee; there were no tracks through the gate; and besides, these were not the prints of riding-boots.
She twitched her shoulders and went around to the door leading into her own room.

The door stood wide open when it should have been closed.
Inside there were evidences of curious inspection.

She went hot with an unreasoning anger when she saw the wide-open door into the kitchen; first of all she went over and closed that door, her lips pressed tightly together.

To her it was as though some wanton hand had forced up the lid of a coffin where slept her dead.

She stood with her back against the door and looked around the room, breathing quickly.