"In a lady's room, as you correctly informed the court," came O'Moy's
bitter mockery. "Your only mistake was in the identity of the lady.
You imagined that the lady was yourself. A delusion purely. But
you and I may comfort each other, for we are fellow-sufferers at
the hands of this man of honour. My wife was the lady who
entertained this gallant in her room that night."

"My God, O'Moy!" It was a strangled cry from Tremayne. At last he
saw light; he understood, and, understanding, there entered his
heart a great compassion for O'Moy, a conception that he must have
suffered all the agonies of the damned in these last few days. "My
God, you don't believe that I - "

"Do you deny it?"

"The imputation? Utterly."

"And if I tell you that myself with these eyes I saw you at the
window of her room with her; if I tell you that I saw the rope
ladder dangling from her balcony; if I tell you that crouching there
after I had killed Samoval - killed him, mark me, for saying that
you and my wife betrayed me; killed him for telling me the filthy
truth - if I tell you that I heard her attempting to restrain you
from going down to see what had happened - if I tell you all this,
will you still deny it, will you still lie?"

"I will still say that all that you imply is false as hell
and your own senseless jealousy can make it.

"All that I imply? But what I state - the facts themselves, are