"Exactly. Perhaps that is why I—I kept running. Martin only dipped into such lives as mine was then; he always scurried back to respectability and honour; I grovelled in the mire and got stuck! When you get stuck you get what the world calls—justice."
"I recall"—Ledyard's face was hardening—"I recall you always squealed. You were always the wronged one; society was against you. Bah!"
Farwell sat unmoved under this attack.
"I'm not squealing now," he said quietly; "I am merely defending myself as I can. That's the prerogative of any human being, isn't it? Why, see here, Ledyard, there's one thing men like you never comprehend. On the different stratas of life exactly the same passions, impulses, and emotions exist; it's the way they're dealt with, how they affect people, that makes the difference. Up where you live and breathe they love and hate and take revenge, don't they? That's what happened down where I wallowed and where Martin sometimes came—to enjoy himself!"
And now Farwell clutched his thin hands on the table to stay their trembling as he went on:
"I loved—the woman in the case. That sounds strange to you, but it's the only thing I warn you not to laugh at! I loved her because she was beautiful, fascinating, and as—as bad as I. I knew the poor creature had never had half a show. She was born in evil and exploited from the cradle up. Martin knew it, too, and took advantage. She was fair game for him and his money. When he came down to hell to play, he played with her and defied me. But on my plane it was man against man, you see, and when he flung his plaything aside, she came to me; that's all! She told me how he had brought her where she was—yes, damn him! when she was innocent! She paid her toll then, not for his money—though who would believe that?—but for the chance to be decent and clean. He told her, when she was only sixteen, that the one way she could prove her vows to him was to give herself to him. If she trusted him so far, he could trust her. She trusted, poor child! Two years later he married up on his higher plane—your plane—and laughingly offered a second best place to her. It was the only bargain she could make then! The rest was an easy downhill grade.
"Well, I took her. I was all you say, but I meant to do the right thing by her, and she knew it! Yes, she knew it, and later he came back and tried to get her away. After I shot him and went to her with the story—she told me she'd pull herself together and wait for me until—until I came for her. She understood!"
Ledyard moistened his lips and set his jaws harshly. The story had not moved him to pity.
"And—where is she now?" he asked.
"In New York, I suppose. She thinks me dead."