How blind she had been! It exhausted her to walk, though she went so slowly.

There seemed to be a chill and a darkening in the atmosphere, an unreality in the familiar slopes and groves, a strangeness and shadow upon White Slides Valley.
Moore did not return to meet her.

His white horse grazed in the pasture opposite the first clump of willows, where Sage Valley merged into the larger valley.

Then she saw other horses, among them Lem Billings's bay mustang.

Columbine faltered on, when suddenly she recognized the horse Jack had ridden--a sorrel, spent and foam-covered, standing saddled, with bridle down and riderless--then certainty of something awful clamped her with horror.