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Updated: June 23, 2025
"They are way ahead of us yet," he said. "Here, take the glasses." He passed her his field glasses, and she adjusted them. "Oh, yes," she cried, "I see. I can see five or six, but oh, so far off." "The beggars run 'way ahead, at first." "I should say so. See them run, little specks. Every now and then they sit up, their ears straight up, in the air." "Here, look, Hilma, there goes one close by."
Dyke would not take with her a stick of furniture nor a single ornament. It would only serve to remind her of a vanished happiness. She packed a few clothes of her own and Sidney's in a little trunk, Hilma helping her, and Annixter stowed the trunk under the carry-all's back seat. Mrs. Dyke turned the key in the door of the house and Annixter helped her to her seat beside his wife.
They bought it complete, just as it stood in the window of the department store and Hilma was in an ecstasy over its crisp, clean, muslin curtains, spread, and shams. Never was there such a bed, the luxury of a princess, such a bed as she had dreamed about her whole life.
But the square dance was over. The City Band was just beginning to play a waltz. Annixter assuring himself that everything was going all right, was picking his way across the floor, when he came upon Hilma Tree quite alone, and looking anxiously among the crowd of dancers. "Having a good time, Miss Hilma?" he demanded, pausing for a moment. "Oh, am I, JUST!" she exclaimed.
Some such Stella Klive, Mary MacLane, Hilma Strandberg, Marie Bashkirtseff have been veritable epics upon woman's nature; have revealed the characterlessness normal to the prenubile period in which everything is kept tentative and plastic, and where life seems to have least unity, aim, or purpose.
"I I like to be popular, understand? Yes, that's it," he continued, more reassured. "I don't like the idea of any one disliking me. That's the way I am. It's my nature." "Oh, then," returned Hilma, "you needn't bother. No, I don't dislike you." "Well, that's good," declared Annixter judicially. "That's good. But hold on," he interrupted, "I'm forgetting. It's not enough to not dislike me.
What fathomless duplicity was hers, that she could appear so innocent. It was almost unbelievable; in fact, was it believable? For the first time doubt assailed him. Suppose Hilma was indeed all that she appeared to be.
As he passed the Trees' cottage, he observed with satisfaction that Hilma was going to and fro in the front room. If he busted the buckskin in the yard before the stable she could not help but see. Annixter found the stableman in the back of the barn greasing the axles of the buggy, and ordered him to put the saddle on the buckskin.
On a certain afternoon, in the spring of the year, Hilma was returning to Quien Sabe from Hooven's by the trail that led from Los Muertos to Annixter's ranch houses, under the trestle. She had spent the afternoon with Minna Hooven, who, for the time being, was kept indoors because of a wrenched ankle.
Almost unconsciously she dressed in harmony with this note of simplicity, and on this occasion wore a skirt of plain dark blue calico and a white shirt waist crisp from the laundry. And yet, for all the dignity of this rigourous simplicity, there were about Hilma small contradictory suggestions of feminine daintiness, charming beyond words.
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