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Updated: June 4, 2025
As she was overtaking the Power Company's team and wagon of supplies, she turned in her saddle, for the first time, to look back. A mile away, on the road, she could see a cloud of dust and a dark, moving spot which she knew to be an automobile. One of the Company machines, she thought; and drew a breath of relief that Fairlands was so far away.
The two women, surrounded by their luggage and camp equipment, were sitting on the porch with Brian Oakley; waiting, evidently, for the wagon that was crossing the creek toward the house. It was clear to the man on the mountainside, that Sibyl Andrés and the woman with the disfigured face were returning to Fairlands.
The older man turned his peculiar, penetrating, baffling eyes full upon his companion's face, and in a voice full of cynical sadness answered, "Exactly so. I paid court to the powers that be. They gave me the reward I sought; and they made me what I am." So it came about that Conrad Lagrange, in due time, introduced Aaron King to the house on Fairlands Heights.
It was nearly two months after Conrad Lagrange had introduced the young man at the house on Fairlands Heights. The hour was late. The painter returning from a dinner and an evening at the Taine home found the novelist, with pipe and dog, in a deserted corner of the hotel veranda.
"Take care of your horse, now, and then get some rest yourself, and be ready for whatever comes next." He turned to those he had held to go with him; "All right, boys, let's ride. Sheriff will take care of the Fairlands end. Come, Aaron." All the way up the Oak Knoll trail the Ranger rode in the lead, bending low from his saddle, his gaze fixed on the little path.
Situated upon the very topmost of the socially graded levels of Fairlands, it outshone them all; and, quite likely, the glittering display was mistaken by many dwellers in the valley below for a new constellation of the heavenly bodies.
Over in the Galena Valley, an automobile from Fairlands stopped at the mouth of a canyon leading toward Granite Peak. Somewhere, in the darkness of the night, a man strove to know right from wrong. The Man Was Insane Neither Sibyl Andrés nor her companion, the next morning, reopened their conversation of the night before.
Turning to the artist, imploringly, she whispered, "Is it is it true? Am I am I that?" Aaron King, remembering how she had sent the girl he loved so nearly to a shameful end, and thinking of those bones at the foot of the cliff, answered justly; "At least, madam, there is more truth in that picture than in the things you said to Miss Andrés, here in this room, the day you left Fairlands."
At Granite Peak, Sibyl watched the signal flashes from distant Fairlands the flashes that Aaron King was watching, from the peak where they had sat together that day of their last climb.
And now, as he paced to and fro, enjoying the exercise after the days of confinement in the Pullman, he observed them with stimulated interest they, too, were going to Fairlands. The man of the party, though certainly not old in years, was frightfully aged by dissipation and disease.
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