Mary Capron's tears were falling thick and fast now.
"Clem's sorrow is a terrible one," she said brokenly. "She loves a man with all the depth and passion her nature is capable of—and the man is not her husband."
"Oh!" Poppy went white to the lips. She sat rigidly against the orange-tree and stared at the other woman. "Clem!... I'll never believe it ... Clem!" Afterwards she said burningly: "If it could be true, how could you sit there and betray her?"
Mary Capron's eyes flamed at her through the tears.
"How dare you think I could do it idly?... You think no one feels love for her but yourself ... I hope you are prepared to show your love and prove it ... by saving her. If I could do it, I would. Let me tell you, Rosalind Chard, that there is nothing in this world that I would not give up for Clem, or do for her. And you? Can you say that too? Or is your love of the school-girl type—all marks of exclamation and admiration and—was it condemnation that I heard in your voice?" She spoke scornfully, yet there was a wondrous, thrilling appeal in her words. "Would you condemn her, Rosalind? Do you know nothing of love, then? That it is always the best whom it attacks most violently—that no one can keep one's heart from straying ... that there are men in the world who when they call must always be answered ... whom no woman can fight successfully against...."
But Poppy could only whisper to herself: "Clem! Is there any man in the world who could beguile Clem from the straight, clear way on which her feet are set ... away ... to the deep pits whence comes the wailing of ... transgressors! Is there any man ... in the world?..." Suddenly she sat up straight and rigid, and her head struck the trunk of the orange-tree. A look of terror was in her face. She knew the answer. She knew what she was going to hear.
What came dully to her ears was something she had long known—long, long.
"—And when he went away to Borapota she was like a woman mad with grief ... I thought she would have died.... She besought me, besought me to go as far as I could with him ... Nick and I ... in case he should sicken and die of fever.... He did get fever again ... was terribly ill at Borwezi ... and always his one cry was for her.... Nick would tell you ... he too knows ... it was always Loraine...."
"Ah!" The girl under the tree gave a cry and covered her smitten eyes with her hands.
"Always it was Loraine. That was his secret name for her.... I never knew till after I came back that it really is her name ... I asked her one day ... she only said it was her name, but that she never let anyone use it ... he used it though ... he ... he loved her... Miss Chard, I believe that he loves her still ... it is not possible that a man could cease to love a woman like Clem ... a girl's face might attract him ... and draw him for a while ... but Clem ... a man would always come back to her ... she is the kind that men come back to ... are faithful to for ever.... Oh, child! I believe I have hurt you bitterly ... deeply to-day ... forgive me ... it is for her sake ... I love her ... do you love her ... enough to spare her?"