"I can't tell you," I replied. "You'd think I'm crazy and you'd turn me in."
"I will not!"
She came up close to me and looked me square in the eye. "I don't care if you're crazy as a bed-bug," she announced. "Go on and 'pit it out in momma's hand. I won't squeal."
"Sit down!" I ordered, "and get yourself a drink first. This is tough."
She sat and listened quietly as I outlined the latest developments.
"So you see," I concluded, "I can't tell anyone. They'd have me locked up for keeps."
She nodded. "Yeah," she agreed. "I can see that.... Maybe your wife—"
"I couldn't tell her," I contradicted. "It would be too damn cruel just now when she's really happy."
Arthurjean sat and thought for a while. "Yep," she remarked, as though she had just concluded a long argument. "You're right. You can't tell nobody that. How about this nosey A. J. Harcourt? Won't he find out? He's still having you tailed."
"I don't see how he could," I told her, "unless that Madame la Lune is a complete phoney—which doesn't make sense. She and I were alone in the room. If it was a plant, there's nothing to tell. If she's on the level she won't remember what went on."