ve never given them
an answer. But I answer you now--here. I have not picked upon the
weaknesses of women because I despise them. Those weaknesses--the
destroying frailties of womankind--I have driven over rough-shod through
the pages of my books because I have always believed that Woman was the one
thing which God came nearest to creating _perfect_. I believe they should
be perfect. And because they have not quite that perfection which should be
theirs I have driven the cold facts home as hard as I could. I have been a
fool and an iconoclast instead of a builder. This confession to you is
proof that you have brought me face to face with the greatest adventure of
all."

The colour in her cheeks had centred in two bright spots. Her lips formed
words which came slowly, strangely.

"I guess--I understand," she said. "Perhaps I, too, would have been that
kind of an iconoclast--if I could have put the things I have thought into
written words." She drew a deep breath, and went on, her eyes full upon
him, speaking as if out of a dream. "The Great Adventure--for you. Yes; and
perhaps for both."

Her hands were drawn tightly to her breast. Something about her as she
stood there, her back to the table, drew John Aldous to her side, forced
the question from his lips: "Tell me, Ladygray--why are you going to Tete
Jaune?"

In that same strange way, as if her lips were framing words beyond their
power to control, she answered:

"I am going--to find--my husband."

CHAPTER VI

Silent, his head bowed a little, John Aldous stood before her after those
last words. A slight noise outside gave him the pretext to turn to the
door. She was going to Tete Jaune--to find her husband! He had not expected
that. For a breath, as he looked out toward the bush, his mind was in a
strange daze. A dozen times she had given him to understand there was no
husband, father, or brother waiting for her at the rail-end. She had told
him that she was alone--without friends. And now, like a confession, those
words had come strangely from her lips.

What he had heard was one of Otto's pack-horses coming down to drink. He
turned toward her again.

Joanne stood with her back still to the table. She had slipped a hand into
the front of her dress and had drawn forth a long thick envelope. As she
opened it, Aldous saw that it contained banknotes. From among these she
picked out a bit of paper and offered it to him.

"That will explain--partly," sh