He did his best; he refused to sit down, he remained as still as possible, he looked over Dune's head in order to avoid those shining eyes.
The eyes caught him.
"Craven, why have you been badgering the wretched Bunning ?" "I thought you asked me to come here to tell me something--I didn't come to answer questions." "We'll come to my part of it in a moment.

But I think it's only fair to answer me first." "What have you got to do with Bunning ?" "That's not, immediately, the point.

The thing I want to know is, why you should have chosen, during the last week, to go and torment the hapless Bunning until you've all but driven him out of his wits." "I don't see what it's got to do with you." "It's got this much to do with me--that he came to me this morning with a story so absurd that it proves that he can't be altogether right in his head.

He told me that he had confided this absurd story to you." There was no answer.
"I don't suppose," Olva went on at last gently, "that we've either of us got very much time, and there's a great deal to be done, so let's go straight to it.

Bunning told me this morning that he declared to you yesterday that he--of all people in the world--had murdered Carfax." "Yes," at last Craven sullenly muttered, "he told me that." "And of course you didn't believe it ?" "I didn't believe that _he'd_ done it--no.