“I do,” she said.
I kept quiet.
“It’s none of your business,” she went on after a while.
I said, “Some day the cops are going to ask me questions. If I know what not to tell them, I won’t give anything away, but if I don’t know what not to tell them, I may say the wrong thing. Then they’ll start in on you.”
She sat silent for several seconds, then she said, “I got in an awful scrape.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It probably isn’t what you think it is.”
“I’m not even thinking.”
She said, “I took a cruise last summer down to the South Seas. There was a man on the boat. I liked him very much, and— Well, you know how it is.”
I said, “Lots of young women have taken cruises to the South Seas, found lots of men whom they liked very much, and still didn’t pay thirty thousand dollars after they got home.”