"The safest way, I should say, is for neither of us to express an opinion so long as we are thrown into contact with each other. If you choose to tell the world what you think of me, all well and good. But please don't tell me."
"I can't convince the world what I think of you for the simple reason that I'd be speaking at random. I don't know who you are."
"Oh, you will know some day," she said, and her shoulders drooped a little.
"I've—I've done a most cowardly, despicable thing in hunting you—"
"Please! Please don't say anything more about it. I dare say you've done me a lot of good. Perhaps I shall see things a little more clearly. To be perfectly honest with you, I went into this marriage with my you his queen? You'll find it better than being a countess, believe me."
"I shall never marry, Mr. Smart," she said with decision. "Never, never again will I get into a mess that is so hard to get out of. I can say this to you because I've heard you are a bachelor. You can't take offence."
"I fondly hope to die a bachelor," said I with humility.
"God bless you!" she cried, bursting into a merry laugh, and I knew that a truce had been declared for the time being at least. "And now let us talk sense. Have you carefully considered the consequences if you are found out, Mr. Smart?"
"Found out?"
"If you are caught shielding a fugitive from justice. I couldn't go to sleep for hours last night thinking of what might happen to you if—"