But Jim shook his head.
“I’ve drunk a lot to-day. Maybe my head’s not clear. Maybe–––”
Peter’s voice broke in.
“It doesn’t need much clearness to understand, if you know all the facts. I’m not going to tell all I’ve seen and heard to-day either. But I’m going to say a few words to you, Jim, because I know you and like you, and because, in spite of a few cranks in your head, you’re a man. Just now you’re feeling reckless. Nothing much matters to you. You’re telling yourself that there’s no particular reason keeping straight. You have no interest, and when the end comes you’ll just shut out your lights and––well, there’s nothing more to it. That’s how you’re thinking.”
“And what’s my thoughts to do with quitting a sinking ship?” Jim asked a trifle impatiently. “I don’t deny you’re likely right. I confess I don’t see that there’s much incentive to––well, to stick to a straight and narrow 116 course. I’ll certainly strike a gait of my own, and I don’t know that it’ll be a slow one. It’ll be honest though. It’ll be honest as far as the laws of man go. As for the other laws, well, they’re for my personal consideration as far as my life is concerned. But this sinking ship. I’d like to know.”
“You love Eve?” Peter abruptly demanded.
“For G–––’s sake, what are you driving at?”
“You love her?” Peter’s demand would admit of no avoidance.
“Better than my life.”
Jim’s answer was deep down in his voice; his whole soul was in his reply.