He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and spoke in a brisk, businesslike way. "In the first place, it's got to be done, hasn't it? And someone has got to do it? And there is no one offering but me? Am I right?"
She nodded.
"Then I've got to do it, and you've GOT to let me. There's logic, if ever there was logic. A Philadelphia lawyer couldn't knock a hole in it. You trust me, don't you?"
She was silent.
"You don't trust me, then," said he cheerfully. "Well, perhaps you're right. But you trust yourself, don't you?"
She moved restlessly, but remained silent.
"You are afraid I might put you in a difficult position?"
"Something like that," she admitted, in a low, embarrassed voice.
"You fear that I expect some return which you do not intend to give?"
She was silent.