But I can't tell you anything--I can't, I can't!" She gripped his wrist in her vehemence, and he thought she was going to break down, but again, with an extraordinary effort of will which excited his secret admiration, she controlled herself.
"You're going to think very badly of me," she said, "and I hate the thought, Mr.Tarling--you don't know how I hate it.

I want you to think that I am innocent, but I am going to make no effort to prove that I was not guilty." "You're mad!" he interrupted her roughly "Stark, raving mad! You must do something, do you hear?
You've got to do something." She shook her head, and the little hand which rested on his closed gently about two of his fingers.
"I can't," she said simply.

"I just can't." Tarling pushed back the chair from the bed.

He could have groaned at the hopelessness of the girl's case.

If she had only given him one thread that would lead him to another clue, if she only protested her innocence! His heart sank within him, and he could only shake his head helplessly.
"Suppose," he said huskily, "that you are charged with this--crime.