"Zora," he said, "sometimes you tell lies, don't you?"
"Yes," she said slowly; "sometimes."
"And, Zora, sometimes you steal—you stole the pin from Miss Taylor, and we stole Mr. Cresswell's mule for two days."
"Yes," she said faintly, with a perplexed wrinkle in her brows, "I stole it."
"Well, Zora, I don't want you ever to tell another lie, or ever to take anything that doesn't belong to you."
She looked at him silently with the shadow of something like terror far back in the depths of her deep eyes.
"Always—tell—the truth?" she repeated slowly.
"Yes."
Her fingers worked nervously.
"All the truth?" she asked.