"A little color is a dangerous thing,"
Marianne had said, somewhat overwisely, "but a great deal of it is
pretty certain to be pleasing." So she had let her fancy run amuck, so
to speak, and behind the merciful screen of trees there was now what
Lew Hervey profanely termed: "A whole damn rainbow gone plumb crazy."
Even Marianne at times had her doubts, but from a distance and by dint
of squinting, she was usually able to reduce the conglomerate to a
tolerably harmonious whole. "It's a promise of changes to come," she
told herself. "It's a milestone pointing towards new goals." But the
milestone set Perris chuckling. Yonder a scarlet roof burned through
the shadows above moonwhite walls--that was a winter-shed for cows.
Straight before him were the hot orange sides of the house itself. He
dismounted at the arched entrance and walked into the patio.
The first thing that Perris heard was the most provocative and
sneering tone of the foreman, and cursing the slowness of the
buckskin, he realized that he had been beaten to his goal. He paused
in the shadow of the arch to take stock of his position. The squat
arcade of 'dobe surrounding the patio was lighted vaguely by a single
lantern at his left.
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