"'Ow can I tell? I ain't no Mother Shipton. But I knows well enough it ain't a wise thing for a girl to do. There ain't a day as passes without reckless letters making trouble for someone or other." "Is it an equally unwise proceeding for men too?" "Yes, my gosh, it jist is. Never 'eard of breach o' promise cases? Nobody didn't ought to trust nobody in this 'ere wicked world. If yer contents yerself with jist speaking like an idjit, you can always deny it afterwards----" "Oh!" "But when you've bin and gorn and acted like a born natural, by puttin' the stuff into writin', well, 'tain't no use denying it then. You're done for. 'Out damned lines'--Shakespeare! But they don't come out--not for all the cussin' and swearin' in the world." Evarne laughed outright. "That's true enough. I know it, and of course Geoff must know it too." "Oh, 'e's a hartist. They don't know nothin', none of 'em." "Geoff knows he can trust me, Philia, and I value and appreciate the blessed belief he shows in me by writing as he does. Perfect love casteth out fear of every description. He believes that I shall know the right thing to do with regard to his letters, and that I shall ever and always do it." "It don't need much wit for anyone to know they're safe in your 'ands, my dear. But do you write to 'im jist all that comes into yer 'ead, trustin' 'im to know the right thing to do, and do it?" "Indeed yes--oh yes!" "That's the very frame o' mind as ruins 'undreds o' girls. You git rid of it, my dear." "I won't. I shan't even try. No"--and a wilful head was shaken vigorously--"I shan't pay any attention to your sage advice, not the--least--little bit. Not trust Geoff absolutely and entirely! Why, I'd as soon mistrust myself. Though I ought to know better by now--oh, indeed, I ought!" Bitter thoughts of past blind trust made ridiculous, brought a note of anguish to the low, sweet voice. But she went on almost defiantly-- "I like to write to him recklessly, and without a single thought of possible future regret. It pleases me to think that he possesses letters of mine that people might say a woman should only have written to the man who was to be her husband. I like to feel that he and I are, to a certain extent, in one another's power--dependent each on the other's honour. Through those letters he has seen into the innermost recesses of my soul, in a way that no other human being has done. Think, when you truly love, of the delight that lies in such abandonment. But don't you trouble, Philia. I've not told him everything--not shown him quite the full extent of all I feel for him. There is still plenty in reserve. There remain sealed chambers that will not open readily." "Well, everyone must go their own ways in sich matters. 'Tain't no use advisin'. Common sense and love never seems to flourish longside o' one another, more's the pity."