"Oh, yes, occasionally. Not often. You see, I'm too well-meaning to go far astray," said Nick, with becoming modesty. "You must remember that I'm well-meaning, Wyndham. It accounts for a good many little eccentricities. I think you were quite right to make her extract that needle. I should have done it myself. But you are not so wise in resenting her refusal to kiss the place and make it well. I speak from the point of view of the chaperon, remember." "Who told you anything about a needle?" demanded Max, suddenly turning brick-red.. "That's my affair," said Nick. "And mine!" "No, pardon me, not yours!" Again his eyes took a leaping glance at his companion. Doggedly Max faced it. "Did she tell you?" "Who?" said Nick. "Olga." He flung the name with half-suppressed resentment. His attitude in that moment was aggressively British. He looked as he had looked to Olga that afternoon, undeniably formidable. But Nick remained unimpressed. "I shan't answer that question," he said. "You needn't," said Max grimly. "That's why," said Nick. "Oh! I see." Max's eyes searched him narrowly for a moment, then returned to the ceiling. "Does she think I'm in love with her?" he asked rather curtly. "Well, scarcely. I shouldn't let her think that at present if I were you. In my opinion any extremes are inadvisable at this stage." "I suppose you know I am going to marry her?" said Max. "Yes, I've divined that." "And you approve?" "I submit to the inevitable," said Nick with a sigh. Max smiled, the smile of a man who faces considerable odds with complete confidence. "She doesn't--at present." Nick's grin of appreciation flashed across his yellow face and was gone. "No, my friend. And you'll find her very elusive to deal with. You will never make her like you. I suppose you know that." "I don't want her to," said Max. "You make that very obvious," laughed Nick. "It's a mistake. If you keep bringing her to bay, you'll never catch her. She's always on her guard with you now. She never breathes freely with you in the room, poor kid." "What is she afraid of?" growled Max. "You know best." Nick glanced up again with sudden keenness. "Don't harry the child, Wyndham!" he said, a half-whimsical note of pleading in his voice. "If you know you're going to win through, you can afford to let her have the honours of war. There's nothing softens a woman more." "I don't mean to harry her." Max turned squarely round upon him. "But neither have I the smallest intention of fetching and carrying for her till she either kicks me or pats me on the head. I shouldn't appreciate either, and it's a method I don't believe in." "There I am with you," said Nick. "But for Heaven's sake, man, be patient! It's no joke, I assure you, if the one woman takes it into her head that you are nothing short of a devouring monster. She will fly to the ends of the earth to escape you sooner than stay to hear reason."