"Why not something more than partners, after a while, Jack?"
She smiled strangely up to him.
"Because of this, Dick."
And fumbling at her throat, she showed him the glittering metal of the cross; an instinct made him swerve the horse away from her.
"The cross goes on, but what of you Jack?"
A long silence fell between them. Words died in the making.
The great weight pressing down on that slender throat was like the iron hand of a giant, but slowly one by one the sounds marshalled themselves:
". . . God knows …" It was the passing of Judgment. "God knows … not I."