Her wistfulness had deepened into downright unhappiness, and that made his task to tell her all the harder.

He kept the secret another day, hoping by some chance she might grow less moody, and to his exceeding anxiety she fell into far deeper gloom.

Out of his own secret and the torment of it he divined that she, too, had a secret and the keeping of it was torturing her.

As yet he had no plan thought out in regard to how or when to leave the valley, but he decided to tell her the necessity of it and to persuade her to go.
Furthermore, he hoped his speaking out would induce her to unburden her own mind.
"Bess, what's wrong with you ?" he asked.
"Nothing," she answered, with averted face.
Venters took hold of her gently, though masterfully, forced her to meet his eyes.
"You can't look at me and lie," he said.

"Now--what's wrong with you?
You're keeping something from me.