She was silent, watching him closely. Then she said: "You are really afraid of going to prison, aren't you?"
She came over to him shaking her head. “I have always liked the wrong kind of people.” she said.
She picked up a silver box from the table and took a cigarette from it. Horace, eager to please her and seeing that she might help him, took off his gloves and gave her his cigarette lighter.
"You'll let me go?" He held the lighter toward her.
"Yes, but only if you'll do something for me."
“Anything you say.”