I promise you I'll not drink any more--nor gamble--nor nag dad for money.

I don't like his way of running the ranch, but I'll do it, as long as he lives.

I'll even try to tolerate that club-footed cowboy's brass in homesteading a ranch right under my nose.

I'll--I'll do anything you ask of me." "Then--please--go away!" cried Columbine, with a sob.
When he was gone Columbine barred the door and threw herself upon her bed to shut out the light and to give vent to her surcharged emotions.
She wept like a girl whose youth was ending; and after the paroxysm had passed, leaving her weak and strangely changed, she tried to reason out what had happened to her.

Over and over again she named the appeal of the rancher, the sense of her duty, the decision she had reached, and the disgust and terror inspired in her by Jack Belllounds's reception of her promise.