"If I tell how and why, can
that alter the--fact? Oh! I have had my hours of explaining and
justifying and glossing over; but I've come at last to the point where
I see myself as I am and I shall never argue the thing again."
"Con, you have shown me the man as man might see him; I must--I must
have him as a woman--as his God--must see him!"
"And you think it possible for me to grant this? You--you, Lynda, would
you have me put up a defense for what I did?"
"No. But I would have you throw all the light upon it that you can. I
want to see--for myself. I will not accept the hideous skeleton you have
hung before me. Con, I have never really known but five men in my life;
but women--women have lain heart deep along my way ever since--I learned
to know my mother! Not only for yourself, but for that girl who drifted
into your solitude, I demand light--all that you can give me!"
And now Truedale breathed hard and the muscles of his face twitched. He
was about to lay bare the inscrutable, the holy thing of his life,
fearing that even the woman near him could not be just. He had accepted
his own fate, so he thought; he meant not to whine or complain, but how
was he to live his life if Lynda failed to agree with him--where
Nella-Rose was concerned?
"Will you--can you--do what I ask, Con?"
"Yes--in a minute."
"You--loved her? She loved you--Con?" Lynda strove to smooth the way,
not so much for Truedale as for herself.
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