Running Ruminations

Trust

“Bink?” Fanchon said at last.

“Um.”

“What kind of a man would give his enemy his sword and go to sleep?”

That question had been bothering Bink. He had no satisfactory answer. “A man with iron nerve,” he said at last, knowing that that could only be part of it.

“A man who extends such trust,” she said thoughtfully, “must expect to receive it.”

“Well, if we’re trustworthy and he isn’t, he knows he can trust us.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Bink. It is the untrustworthy man who distrusts others, because he judges them by himself.”

— A Spell for Chameleon by Piers Anthony