A choking sob came into her throat, and then she added, in a voice which she was straining to make calm, "Don't think that I haven't faith in you because I can't tell you more now, Jeems," she said. "You will understand—quite soon. When we are safe from the Police, I shall tell you. I shall keep nothing from you then. I shall tell you about Barkley, and Kedsty—everything. But I can't now. It won't be long. When you tell me we are safe, I shall believe you. And then—" She withdrew her hands from his and dropped back on her pillow.
"And then—what?" he asked, leaning far over.
"You may not like me, Jeems."
"I love you," he whispered. "Nothing in the world can stop my loving you."
"Even if I tell you—soon—that I killed Barkley?"
"No. You would be lying."
"Or—if I told you—that I—killed—Kedsty?"
"No matter what you said, or what proof there might be back there, I would not believe you."
She was silent. And then, "Jeems—"
"Yes, Niska, Little Goddess—?"