"It isn't that I don't trust you, but I can't tell you - Oh, damn it all, why did I ever take this on?" He got up abruptly, and began to pace up and down the room.
She watched him in silence for a moment. He was frowning, and when he frowned he did look rather sinister, she thought. "Have you considered that if - that if you think… Have you considered that you might give it up?" she said, stumbling badly.
"No!" he threw over his shoulder. "Not that it would be any good if I did."
There was another short silence. Margaret tried again. "Is what you're doing of such vital importance?" she asked.
"Yes, of vital importance." He came back to her side. "Margaret, if I were at liberty to take you into my confidence I would, but too much hangs on it. I can't do it. I know things look black: they are black, but will you believe that it's not what you think?"
"I don't know quite what to think," she said.
"You've seen me in some odd circumstances, you've seen me do things that look more than suspicious. I don't deny it, and I may have to do things that will seem far more suspicious. But I swear to you I've a good reason for all I do, even though I can't tell you what it is. Margaret, I've no right to ask you, as things are, but will you try and trust me a little longer? Will you trust me sufficiently to do as I beg of you, and leave the Priory till I've finished the job I've undertaken?"
She found it hard to meet his eyes, and felt a wave of colour rise in her cheeks. "Even though I - said yes, my brother and brother-in-law wouldn't go."
"If you can't persuade them they can take their chance," he said. "But will you go? You and your sister, and your aunt?"
She shook her head. "No, I can't do that. You couldn't expect me to go away and leave my brother in danger. And nothing would induce Celia to leave Charles."