She turned to him sharply. “Is that a promise?”
“Why do you want a promise?” he asked, in some wonder.
“Because I do.”
“That is, you can’t trust me.”
“My dear Rash, who could trust you after what––?”
“Oh, well, then, I promise.”
“Then that’s understood. And if anything happens, you won’t go hedging and saying you didn’t mean it in that way?”
“It seems to me you’re very suspicious.”
“One’s obliged to foresee everything with you, Rash. It isn’t as if one was dealing with an ordinary man.”
“You mean that I’m to give you carte blanche, and have no will of my own at all.”