"She will some day, though, Lans! Can you buy Marian off? I wouldn't have believed she was so vicious. Did she—lie?"
"I rather imagine she spoke only—truth."
"Well! I reckon this is about the worst confusion that was ever brought about. Without being positively bad, Lans, you've managed to create a mighty lot of trouble for a good many innocent people."
"Yes, Aunt Olive."
Lans was standing by the window looking down into the empty street.
"What are you—going to do about it?"
Then Lans turned.
"Aunt Olive, I'm going to untangle the snarl—somehow! And I'm going to stand by—Marian!"
"Marian? You talk like a madman, Lans, or a fool—and a depraved one at that. You owe everything to Cynthia—you'll be held to it, too, by law!"
"Aunt Olive," and then Lans laughed a mirthless, cold laugh, "I wonder if either you or I ever really seriously thought we could—hold Cynthia? There is no law that could keep her here. She is of the hills. She came into our lives just long enough to purify our air and—clear my vision. She'll go back now. We—cannot keep her!"