Colina saw the hand that held his spoon tremble slightly, and wondered
why. The fact was the thought could not but occur to him: "How foolish
for me to think she could ever bring her lovely, ladylike ways to my
little shack!"

He thrust the unnerving thought away. "I can build a bigger house,
can't I?" he demanded of himself. "Anyway, I'll make the best play to
get her that I can!"

In the library they talked about furniture. It transpired that the
trader had a passion for cabinet making, and most of the objects that
surrounded them were examples of his skill. Ambrose admired them with
due politeness, meanwhile his heart was sinking. 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.