Only a few yards away the lilting waltz-music was quickening to a finish. In a few moments more their privacy would be invaded by the giddy dancers. "Listen!" said Noel, and his voice fell short and stern. "He shan't have you! That I swear! It's monstrous--it's unthinkable! Why, he's old enough to be your father. And he's got the opium-habit. Max told me so. Olga, I say, haven't you the strength of mind to refuse him? If the brute pesters you, why don't you tell Nick?" Slowly Olga raised herself, quitting his support. "I've promised not to tell anyone," she said dully. "You mustn't know either." "But, my dear girl, something must be done," he objected. "You can't let him ride over you roughshod. You don't mean--you can't mean--to let him marry you?" "I can't help it," she said. "Can't help it!" He stared at her. "He really has some hold over you then? What is it?" She was silent. The last crashing chords of the first waltz were being played. Noel got to his feet. His boyish face was set in grim lines. "Do you want me to go and kill him?" he said. "No!" She sprang up also, quickened to sudden fear by his words. "You're not to go near him," she said, "Noel, promise me you won't! Oh, if you only knew--how much harder--your interference makes things! Don't you see--I've given him my word to consult no one!" She was panting uncontrollably; her hands were fast closed upon his arm. "I refused him once before," she told him feverishly, "and he--he punished me--cruelly. I can't--I daren't--refuse him again!" "You'd sooner marry him?" Noel stared at her incredulously. She flung out her hands with a wide, despairing gesture. "Yes--yes--I would sooner marry him!" The music had stopped. There came the sound of approaching voices. Their privacy was at an end. Yet for full ten seconds Noel stood widely gazing at the girl before him with eyes in which surprise, hurt pride, and smouldering passion mingled; then very abruptly, as the first chattering couple reached the half-open door, he swung away from her. "All right!" he said. "Good-bye!" He went straight out without a glance behind, nearly running into the gay invaders. Olga, with the instinct to escape notice, turned as swiftly to the window. She went out upon the verandah, blindly groping her way, scarcely aware of her surroundings. And a figure waiting there in the dimness laughed a cruel laugh and roughly caught her. "'You'd sooner marry him,' eh?" gibed a voice close to her ear. "My dear, that's the wisest resolution you ever made in your life!" She did not cry out or attempt to resist him. She had known that her fate was sealed. Only, as his lips sought hers, she shrank away with every fibre of her being in sick revolt, and for the first time in her life she begged for mercy. "Please--please--give me to-night!" she pleaded. "Only to-night! Yes, I will marry you. But don't--don't ask--any more of me--to-night!"