Violet leaned towards her and spoke in low, confidential tones. "So amusing, dear! I know you won't mind for once. It's Hunt-Goring again. He really is too ridiculous for words. He has hired a yacht, you must know--a nice little steam-yacht, Allegro. He walked over this afternoon to tell me about it. Don't look so horrified! There's much worse to come." She laughed again under her breath. "He has asked me--in fact, persuaded me--to go for a little trip in it one day next week. Of course I said No at first; and then he said you could come too to make it proper; so I consented. I'm sure you won't mind for once, and a breath of sea air will do me good." She laid a hand of careless coaxing upon Olga's shoulder. But Olga's demeanour was very far from acquiescent. "But, Violet!" she exclaimed, "how could you possibly accept for me? I'm not going! No; indeed, I'm not! Neither must you. It's the maddest project I ever heard of! Whatever made you imagine for one moment that I would agree to go?" "Don't be ridiculous, Allegro!" Violet sounded quite unmoved. "Of course you'll go, unless--" she smiled a trifle maliciously--"you mean me to go alone, as I certainly shall if you are going to be tiresome about it. You wouldn't like me to do that, I suppose?" Olga gazed at her helplessly. "Violet, what am I to say to you? How could you and I go off for a whole day with that detestable man? Why, it--it would start everyone talking!" "My dear, no one will know," said Violet with composure. "Haven't you sworn to keep it a dead secret? He won't talk and neither shall I. So, you see, it's all perfectly safe. Not that there would be anything improper about it in any case. He is as old as you and me put together,--older I should say." "Oh, but he's such a fiend!" burst forth Olga. "You said you were going to give him up only the other night." "When?" said Violet sharply. Olga hesitated. It was the first time she had made direct reference to that midnight episode. "When did I say that?" insisted Violet. Half-reluctantly Olga made reply, while Violet leaned forward and listened intently. "The night before last. You came to my room late, don't you remember?" Violet's eyes had a startled look. "Yes?" she breathed. "Yes? What else?" Olga looked straight up at her. "Dear, I don't think we need talk about it, need we? You were not yourself. I think you were half-asleep. You had been smoking those hateful cigarettes." "Ah, but tell me!" insisted Violet. "Why did I come to you? What did I say? Was--was Max there?" "He came in," faltered Olga. "He--guessed you weren't well. He helped you back to your own room. Don't you remember?"