"Would you have done that?"
"Yes, if you had been untruthful to me."
She bent her head, thoughtfully; then looking up at him: "Yes; that would have been just.... But I have not been untruthful."
His perplexed and slightly careworn eyes met hers.
"I can't doubt you," he said. "I know you have been truthful. But—what is in that satchel? Forgive me, I must ask you. Because there is evidently enough there to terrify you at the thought of British eyes inspecting it."
"Kervyn—can't you believe me when I tell you that I don't know what is in that satchel?"
"I do believe you. But tell me what you are afraid it might be."
"I can't—truly I can't tell you. Don't you understand? Don't you realize that I must have promised?"
"Promised?"
"Yes—not to unlock or open the satchel. I did promise."