“I think they do.... All the blame is not with her. That she should give utterance to such a lie proves to what extremes she was forced. She tried by every other means to escape—and failed. You held her, not by love, but by brute strength.”
“You don’t understand,” retorted Jim. “I bought her. She knows that. I didn’t know I was buying her, but she knew all the time——”
“You—can’t buy a woman’s soul.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Everything. It was her soul that writhed under that jailership——”
“Yep—and her soul that told that damned lie.”
D’Arcy shook his head.
“You tried to win by the superiority of your physical strength. Is that moral? Is it justifiable? She had no other way to fight but by subtlety and falsehood. Both ways are equally 229 detestable. Therefore it is not for you to condemn.... Tell Lonagon ... I’m going—going....”
Jim ran outside and brought in Lonagon and Shanks. Before they could reach the bed the soul of D’Arcy had flown from his pain-ridden body. Lonagon put the blanket over the dead man’s face, and Shanks made strange noises in his throat.
“He was a white man, though he was a gentleman,” muttered Lonagon.