Camilla looked away—out of the window toward the "Watch Us Grow" sign, the symbol of Jeff's ambition, and her eyes softened. She got up and walked to the window which faced the mountains.
"If I could only believe you—if I only could," she said, and then, turning suddenly, "Why did you try to make Jeff fall in love with you?"
Rita shrugged. "Simply because—because it was impossible. I'm so tired of doing easy things. I've always done everything I wanted to, and it bored me. I owe your husband a debt. I thought all men were the same. Do you really think there are any more like Jeff?"
Camilla watched her narrowly, probing shrewdly below the surface for traces of the vein of feeling she had shown a moment before. What she discovered was little, but that little seemed to satisfy her, for, after a pause, in which she twisted the window cord and then untwisted it again, she came forward slowly, took Rita by both hands and looked deep into her eyes.
"Why did you come out here?"
It was no time for equivocation. Camilla's eyes burned steadily, oh, so steadily. But Rita did not flinch.
"I thought Jeff was lonely. I thought he needed some one, and so I came out in the Bents' private car as far as Denver. I left them there and came on alone. I wanted to help him—I'm trying to help him still—with my sympathy, my money—and—and such influence as I can use to make his wife realize her duty to him and her duty to herself."
It was an explanation which somehow did not seem to explain, and yet curiously enough it satisfied Camilla. If it was not the whole truth, there was enough of it that was nothing but the truth. She felt that it would not have been fair to ask for more. Rita was not slow to follow up this advantage. She gave a quick sigh, then took Camilla by both shoulders. "You mustn't go away to Kansas, I tell you. You've never loved anybody but Jeff. Cortland knows it, and I know it. I've known it all the while. A woman has a way of learning these things. If you leave him now there's no telling what may happen. He needs you. He can't get on without you. They're trying to crush the life out of him in this soulless war for the smelter, and they may succeed. He's pushed to the limit of his resourcefulness and his endurance. Flesh and blood can't stand that strain long. He needs all his friends now and every help, moral and physical, that they can give him. There's no one else who can take your place now. No one to stand at his side and take the bad with the good. You've had your half of his success—now you must take your half of his failure. You're his wife, Camilla! Do you understand that? His wife!"
A sob welled up in Camilla's throat and took her unawares. She bent her head to hide it—and then gave way and fell on the bed in a passion of tears.
Rita watched her for a moment with a smile, for she knew that the tears were tears of happiness, then went over and put her arms around Camilla's shoulders, murmuring gently: