"It's enough that you survived—that you, too, have a clean vision."
"No, that is not true," he said sharply. "I can't see clearly—I'm not sure that I want to see clearly—not now."
"I won't believe that, Cort. Back there at her house you said something that was unworthy of you, that showed me another side of your nature, the dark side, like the shadowy places under the ivy. I want you to forget that you ever said them—that you ever thought them even."
"I can't," he muttered savagely. "I want some one to come between you—to make him suffer what I am suffering—to place a distance between you which nothing can ever repair."
"Some one has already come between us," she said, gently. "The one I have in mind is the Cort Bent of Mesa City, who used to help me gather columbines; who rode with me far up the trail to get the last ray of the sunset when the valley below was already asleep in the shadow; who shouted my name in the gorge because he said it was sweet to hear the mountains send back its echoes all silvered over with the mystery of the Infinite; who told me of palaces and gardens in lands which I had never seen, and of the talented men and women who had lived in them; who sang to me in the moonlight and taught me to dream——"
"Don't, Camilla——"
"That was a boy I remember, who lived years and years ago when I was rich—rich in innocent visions which he did nothing to destroy. It was he who gave me an idea that there were men who differed from those I had known before—men in whose hearts was tenderness and in whose minds one might find a mirror for one's harmless aspirations toward a life that wasn't all material and commonplace. He was my knight, that boy, thoughtful, considerate, and gentle. He was foolish sometimes, but I loved him because his ideals had not been destroyed."
"I lied to you. Life is a cinder."
She shook her head. "No, you did not lie to me—not then. Later you did when you asked me to come to New York. Oh, I know. I can see more clearly now. Suppose that even now I chose what you call your solution of the tangle we've made of things. You'd like to see Jeff desert me for Rita Cheyne so that you could have your own way with me now."
"Camilla! I was mad then. I thought you understood. Gretchen and I——"