He stood there, rocking on his feet, his hands covering his face.
"It's all too awful," he moaned.

"It's all too awful." For a wonderful moment Olva felt that he was about to tell Craven everything.

A flood of words rose to his lips--he seemed, for an instant, to be rising with a great joyous freedom, as did Christian when he had dropped his burden, to a new honesty, a high deliverance.
Then he remembered Margaret Craven.
"You take my advice, Craven, and get your nerves straight.

They're in a shocking condition." Craven went to the door and turned.
"You can tell nothing ?" "Nothing." "I will never rest until I know who murdered Carfax." He closed the door behind him and was gone..