Distinctly recalled now, never to be forgotten, Venters saw in Oldring's magnificent eyes the rolling of great, glad surprise--softness--love! Then came a shadow and the terrible superhuman striving of his spirit to speak.

Oldring shot through the heart, had fought and forced back death, not for a moment in which to shoot or curse, but to whisper strange words.
What words for a dying man to whisper! Why had not Venters waited?
For what?
That was no plea for life.

It was regret that there was not a moment of life left in which to speak.

Bess was--Herein lay renewed torture for Venters.

What had Bess been to Oldring?
The old question, like a specter, stalked from its grave to haunt him.