It wouldn't be square." He wondered why no change came into the steady blue of her eyes as he went on with the truth.

The pallor was gone from her cheeks.

Her lips seemed redder, and what he was saying did not seem to startle her, or frighten her.
"Don't you understand, Nada ?" he cried.

"I'm bad.

The police want me.
I'm a fugitive--always running away, always hiding--an outlaw--" She nodded.
"I know it, Mister Roger," she said quietly.