"It's not him I'm thinking of—it's myself—it's a superstition. I'd be afraid to do otherwise, I have that in me. Besides, I liked him."
"You won't do anything, then?"
"No."
"Honest?"
"Yes."
"What was the use of telling me, then?"
"I promised him to do so, as soon as Sheila was gone."
"Why not before?"
"There might have been complications."