The ghost of a chuckle escaped her. "Well, I was glad to see you," she admitted. "But all the same, it isn't fair of you to - to follow me. Was it you who whistled?"
"A habit of mine," said Mr. Amberley.
She looked up, trying to see his face. "You complain that I'm mysterious, but are you being quite open with me?"
"Not in the least," he said.
She was slightly indignant. "Well, then -'
"You can't have something for nothing, my girl," said Mr. Amberley. "When you decide to trust me I'll be as open as you please."
She said: "I do trust you. I didn't at first, but that's all done with. It isn't that I don't want to confide in you, but I daren't. Please believe me!"
"That a sample of your trust, is it? I don't think much of it."
She was strangely anxious to explain herself "No, it isn't what you think. I'm not afraid that you'd give me away, or anything, but I daren't tell a soul, because if I do - oh, I can't make you understand!"
"You're mistaken; I understand perfectly. You're afraid I might put my foot in it and queer your pitch. I said I didn't think much of your trust."