"You used to be generous.
Am I to blame?
Did I choose my life ?" Moore looked quickly away from her, and, standing with a hand on his horse, he was silent for a moment.

The squaring of his shoulders bore testimony to his thought.

Presently he swung up into the saddle.

The mustang snorted and champed the bit and tossed his head, ready to bolt.
"Forget my temper," begged the cowboy, looking down upon Columbine.

"I take it all back.