At Flagstaff, where Carley arrived a few minutes before train time, she was too busily engaged with tickets and baggage to think of herself or of the significance of leaving Arizona.

But as she walked into the Pullman she overheard a passenger remark, "Regular old Arizona sunset," and that shook her heart.

Suddenly she realized she had come to love the colorful sunsets, to watch and wait for them.

And bitterly she thought how that was her way to learn the value of something when it was gone.
The jerk and start of the train affected her with singular depressing shock.

She had burned her last bridge behind her.