and gave forth a scorched
smell before the red coals subdued it. Then, with a straight, uplifted
look:

"I'm ready, Con."

"Just before I broke down and went away, Brace once told me that my life
had no background, no colour. Lynda, it is of that background about
which you do not know, that I want to speak." He waited a moment, then
went on:

"I went away--to the loneliest, the most beautiful place I had ever
seen. For a time there seemed to be nobody in the world but the man with
whom I lived and me. He liked and trusted me--I betrayed his trust!"

Lynda caught her breath and gave a little exclamation of dissent,
wonder.

"You--betrayed him, Con! I cannot believe that. Go on."

"Yes. I betrayed his trust. He left me and went into the deep woods to
hunt. He put everything in my care--everything. He was gone nearly three
weeks. No one knew of my existence. They are like that down there. If
you are an outsider you do not matter. I had arrived at dark; I was sent
for a certain purpose; that was all that mattered. I began and ended
with the man who was my host and who had been told to--to keep me
secret." Truedale was gripping the arms of his chair and his words came
punctuated by sharp pauses.

"And then, into that solitude, came a young girl. Remember, she did not
know of my existence. We--discovered each other like creatures in a new
world. There are no words to describe her--I cannot even attempt it,
Lynda. I ruined her life. That's all!"

The bald, crushing truth was out. For a moment the man Lynda Kendall
knew and loved seemed hiding behind this monster the confession had
called forth. A lesser woman would have shrunk in affright, but not
Lynda.

"No. That is not all," she whispered hoarsely, putting her hands out as
though pushing something tangible aside until she could reach Conning.
"I demand the rest."

"What matters it?" Truedale spoke bitterly. "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.