He could not see the slightest chance of getting a word alone with Colina.
In the middle of the evening a breed came to the door, hat in hand, to say that John Gaviller's Hereford bull was lying down in his stall and groaning.

The trader bit his lip and glanced at Colina.
"Would you like to come and see my beasts ?" he asked affably.
"Thanks," said Ambrose just as politely.

"I'm no hand with cattle." He kept his eyes discreetly down.
Gaviller could not very well turn him out of the house.

There was no help for it.

He went..