From the east, reflected against
low-hanging clouds, was the dull red of his own steel mills, looking
like the reflection of a vast conflagration.
"Not very happy," he repeated.
"Some times," Mrs. Haverford was saying, "I wonder about things.
People go along missing the best things in life, and - I suppose
there is a reason for it, but some times I wonder if He ever meant
us to go on, crucifying our own souls."
So she did know!
"What would you have us do?"
"I don't know. I suppose there isn't any answer."
Afterward, Clayton found that that bit of conversation with Mrs.
Haverford took on the unreality of the rest of that twenty-four
hours. But one part of it stood out real and hopelessly true.
There wasn't any answer!
CHAPTER XLIII
Anna Klein had gone home, at three o'clock that terrible morning,
a trembling, white-faced girl. She had done her best, and she
had failed. Unlike Graham, she had no feeling of personal
responsibility, but she felt she could never again face her father,
with the thing that she knew between them.
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