"And you did this--risked so much--for me?" she said, trembling a little.
"Oh, Cara!"
Cara was silent a moment. Then she leaned forward.
"Not only for you, Ann," she said gently, "Do you remember my telling you
that a woman once--jilted Eliot Coventry?"
Ann's startled eyes met the grave, sorrowful ones of the woman who
bent towards her. But she averted them quickly. Something--some fine,
instinctive understanding forbade that she should look at her just then.
"Yes" she answered, hardly above her breath.
Cara hesitated. Then she spoke, unevenly, and with a slight, difficult
pause now and again between her words.
"I was that woman. I--robbed him of his belief in things--of his chance of
happiness. I didn't realise all I was doing at the time. But afterwards--I
knew.... Ever since then, I've wanted to give it back to him--all that I
robbed him of. I made his life bitter--and I wanted to make it sweet again.
To give him back his happiness.... Last night, I paid my debt."
Ann had been listening with bent head. Now she lifted it, and her eyes held
a terrible questioning. Behind the questioning lay terror--the terror of
one who sees a heaven regained suddenly barred away.
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