That stir was so helpless that he suddenly determined to be honest.
"I think you'll trust me, won't you ?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Well, you mustn't," he went on hurriedly, his eyes on the door.

"I'm not worse, I suppose, than other men, but all the same I'm not to be trusted.

And when I say I'm not to be trusted I mean that I myself don't know whether I'll keep my word from one minute to another.

I'm sure you don't know very much about men.

I could see it at once from the way you spoke." She looked up, her clear, unconfused, unquestioning eyes facing him.
"I knew my father well," she said.