He paused, still holding her in his arms, feeling the wild beat of her heart against his own, softened in spite of himself by that quivering, agonized appeal. "And if I let you go to-night, what will you give me to-morrow?" he said. "I shall be--your _fiancee_--to-morrow," she whispered, gasping. "And you will marry me--when?" "You shall decide," she murmured faintly. He laughed rather brutally. "A somewhat empty favour, my dear, since I should have decided in any case. But if you give me your promise to come to me like a sensible girl, without any more nonsense of any kind--" "I will!" she said. "I will!" "Then--" he released her with the words--"I give you your freedom--till to-morrow. Go--and make the most of it!" He had not kissed her. She slipped from his arms, thankful for his forbearance, and sped away down the veranda like a shadow. As for Hunt-Goring, he cursed himself for a soft fool and took out his cigarettes to wile away what promised to be an evening of infernal dullness. CHAPTER XXIII THE GIFT OF THE RAJAH Olga danced that night with the feeling that she danced upon her grave, reminding herself continually, as the hours slipped by, that it was her last night of freedom. The failure of Nick to appear for the supper-dances diverted her thoughts from this but to send them with ever-growing anxiety into a new channel. Where was Nick? What was happening to him? What could be delaying him? She had no partner to take her in to supper, refusing each one that offered with the repeated declaration that she must wait for Nick. But Nick came not, and momentarily her uneasiness increased. Sir Reginald came to her at last, his kindly face full of sympathy. "There is probably no occasion for alarm, my dear," he said. "Come, give me the pleasure of your company at supper!" She had to yield, for he would take no refusal; but she could eat nothing notwithstanding his utmost solicitude. She was in a state of mind to start at every sudden sound, and the food he put before her remained untasted on her plate. Sir Reginald watched over her with fatherly concern, but he could do nothing to alleviate her anxiety. In his own private soul he shared it to a considerable degree. As they left the supper-room together, she turned to him piteously. "Oh, do you think I might go back and see if he has returned? Really, I can't--I can't dance any more!" "Wait a little longer!" he counselled. "You needn't dance of course. Stay quietly with me! He may walk in at any moment." She longed to go, but could not refuse a suggestion so kindly proffered. She stayed with him therefore, glad of his protecting presence, refusing to dance any more on the plea of fatigue. The whirling scene wearied her unspeakably. She found herself watching Noel, who was frankly flirting with every woman in the room. It was doubtless a safe pastime, but behind her gnawing anxiety a little spark of resentment kindled and burned. How hopelessly fickle he was!