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Just as his people exceeded her people, so did his womankind exceed her. They were the man compellers, as their men were the world compellers. She looked at the rose-white tenderness of Kitty Bonner's skin and remembered the sun-beat on her own face.
She took a few swift steps, but paused and leaned against the wall of the gable for support, and, placing her hand upon the sun-beat bricks, she felt a warmth in them which there seemed to be neither in herself nor in the wide summer-air. Mrs. Purcell came along, opening her parasol. "I am going to the orchard," said she; "cherries are ripe. Hear the robins and the bells! Do you want to come?"
Dick looked out of the window at the white adobe-lined streets resting in a placid coma of sun-beat. "Don't you reckon Santa Fé can stand a little stirring up, Miss Underwood?" "Goodness, yes. We all get to be three hundred years old if we live in this atmosphere long enough." The man's gaze shifted. "You'd have to live here a right long time, I reckon."
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