“But—she told me that,” gasped Jim.
Despite the pain occasioned by the movement, D’Arcy dragged himself higher on the pillow and gazed at Jim in horror.
“She—she told you—that!”
Jim wished he had bitten his tongue off before those words had been uttered. Was ever physical blow more cruel than this—to inflict insult and guilt of so despicable a nature upon a perfectly innocent man! He snatched at the nerveless hand on the bed and held it.
“I’m sorry,” he groaned. “I didn’t know—I didn’t think she would frame up a dirty lie like that.”
D’Arcy suddenly smiled wistfully.
“I sent her away.”
“You sent her—well, perhaps it was best,” he said. “You’ve got to forget that story. Circumstances excuse many things.”
“They don’t excuse that.”