“Suppose I have got in too deep—deeper than I mean to go?” She looked down at her hands. “What then?”
He looked up sharply, then smiled.
“It ain’t so.”
“Suppose it were?” she said breathlessly.
“It ain’t so,” he repeated quietly. He leaned over and patted her hand. “I know you, girl; you’re not that kind.”
“There’s lots of temptations.”
“Not for you,” he said, reassured in his conviction. “You’re straight, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
“That doesn’t always hold.”
“It does with you. Whatever you’ll do, Myrtle, you’ll do just what you’ve planned out and what your head tells you to do.”