The Call of the Canyon (Chapter 10, page 1 of 24)

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Chapter 10

Carley's edifice of hopes, dreams, aspirations, and struggles fell in
ruins about her. It had been built upon false sands. It had no ideal for
foundation. It had to fall.

Something inevitable had forced her confession to Rust. Dissimulation
had been a habit of her mind; it was more a habit of her class than
sincerity. But she had reached a point in her mental strife where
she could not stand before Rust and let him believe she was noble and
faithful when she knew she was neither. Would not the next step in
this painful metamorphosis of her character be a fierce and passionate
repudiation of herself and all she represented?

She went home and locked herself in her room, deaf to telephone and
servants. There she gave up to her shame. Scorned--despised--dismissed
by that poor crippled flame-spirited Virgil Rust! He had reverenced
her, and the truth had earned his hate. Would she ever forget his
look--incredulous--shocked--bitter--and blazing with unutterable
contempt? Carley Burch was only another Nell--a jilt--a mocker of the
manhood of soldiers! Would she ever cease to shudder at memory of Rust's
slight movement of hand? Go! Get out of my sight! Leave me to my agony
as you left Glenn Kilbourne alone to fight his! Men such as I am do
not want the smile of your face, the touch of your hand! We gave for
womanhood! Pass on to lesser men who loved the fleshpots and who would
buy your charms! So Carley interpreted that slight gesture, and writhed
in her abasement.

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