"You will not make me regret having told you this—will you?" she asked.
"No. I promise you that."
So far as Orsino could understand the words meant very little. He was not very communicative, as a rule, and would certainly not tell what he had heard, so that the promise was easily given and easy to keep. If he did not break it, he did not see that she could have any further cause for regretting her confidence in him. Nevertheless, by way of reassuring her, he thought it best to repeat what he had said in different words.
"You may be quite sure that whatever you choose to tell me is in safe keeping," he said. "And you may be sure, too, that if it is in my power to do you a service of any kind, you will find me ready, and more than ready, to help you."
"Thank you," she answered, looking earnestly at him.
"Whether the matter be small or great," he added, meeting her eyes.
Perhaps she expected to find more curiosity on his part, and fancied that he would ask some further question. He did not understand the meaning of her look.
"I believe you," she said at last. "I am too much in need of a friend to doubt you."
"You have found one."
"I do not know. I am not sure. There are other things—" she stopped suddenly and looked away.