“I hoped you would say that!”
He smiled back:
“You’re tricky, Kate. You set traps for me. But,” impatiently, “go on; if your other reasons are not more serious than this—”
She looked at him speculatively and doubtfully:
“I wonder, if I can make you see things from my point of view—if it’s possible for you to understand how I feel. Our lives and experiences have been so different. I’m afraid I shall fail. It’s just this—” an expression of grim purpose which he saw was not new to it settled upon her face—“I’ve set myself a goal; it’s in sight now and I’ve got to reach it. If I stopped, I know that the feeling that I had been a quitter when a real temptation came to me would gnaw inside of me until I was restless and discontented, and I would have a contempt for myself that I don’t believe ever would leave me.
“When people live alone a lot they get to know themselves—the way their minds work, their moods and the causes, their dispositions; and I know that whether my judgment is right or wrong I’ve got to follow the trail stretching away before me until I’ve reached my destination.”
“What is it you want to do, Kate? Why can’t I help you?”
“I want success—money! It’s the only weapon for a woman in my position. Without it she’s as helpless as though her hands were shackled and left a target for every one who chooses to throw a stone at her. It’s an obsession with me. I’ve sworn to win out here, by myself, single-handed; it’s a vow as sacred as an oath to me! It means time, patience, hardships and more hardships; and after this I’m going to suffer because you’ve shown me what I’m turning my back on. But no matter,” fiercely, “I can crucify myself, if necessary!”
“It isn’t yet clear to me why success means so much to you,” he said, bewildered.
“Because,” she cried, “soon after you left I went through purgatory for that want of money, and because I was nobody—because I was 'Mormon Joe’s Kate,' accused of murder, and the daughter of 'Jezebel of the Sand Coulee,' and have nobody for a father!”