He said: "It's no use stalling much more. You were supposed to have made up your mind about telling me something. Have you made up your mind?"
She winced and looked down at the tangling and untangling fingers in her lap. She looked up at him, and then down again at her hands. Her mouth barely moved.
She said: "Yes."
"Well?"
"I'll tell you."
He waited.
"I'll tell you," she said, "sometime this afternoon."
"Why not now?"
"Because…"
The Saint took a great interest in the tip of his cigarette.