"Yes

"The picture - just for a moment. I'd like to have one look at her!"

Trent drew it out from his pocket - awkwardly - and with a little
shame at the care which had prompted him to wrap it so tenderly in
the oilskin sheet. Monty shaded his face with his hands, and the
picture stole up to his lips. Trent stood a little apart and hated
himself for this last piece of inhumanity. He pretended to be
listening for the stealthy approach of their enemies. In reality
he was struggling with the feeling which prompted him to leave this
picture with the dying man.

"I suppose you'd best have it," he said sullenly at last.

But Monty shook his head feebly and held out the picture.

Trent took it with an odd sense of shame which puzzled him. He was
not often subject to anything of the sort.

"It belongs to you, Trent. I lost it on the square, and it's the
only social law I've never broken - to pay my gambling debts.
There's one word more!"

"Yes."

"It's about that clause in our agreement. I never thought it was
quite fair, you know, Trent!"

"Which clause?"