She went to the piano, put aside the mandolin, and began to play. Not even to Nick, her hero and her close confidant, would she explain the absolute repugnance that the association of Max Wyndham with her friend had inspired in her. But though she played with apparent absorption, her ears were strained to catch the sound of their voices in the garden behind her, the girl's light chatter, her companion's brief, cynical laugh. For she knew by the sure intuition which is a woman's inner and unerring vision, that jest or trifle as he might his keen brain was actively employed in some subtle investigation too obscure for her to fathom, and that behind his badinage and behind his cynicism there sat a man who watched. CHAPTER VI THE PAIN-KILLER "I am going over to Brethaven to see Mrs. Briggs to-day," Olga announced nearly a week later, waylaying Max after breakfast on his way to the surgery with the air of one prepared to resist opposition. "Are you wanting the car this morning, Dr. Wyndham?" She knew that he would be engaged at the cottage-hospital that morning, but it was one of Dr. Ratcliffe's strict rules that the car should never be used unprofessionally without express permission from himself or his assistant. Naturally Olga resented having to observe this rule in her father's absence and her manner betrayed as much, but she was too conscientious to neglect its observance. "You don't propose to go alone, I suppose?" said Max, pausing. This was another of her father's rules and one which Olga had often vainly attempted to persuade him to rescind. Under these circumstances, Max's question seemed little short of an insult. "I don't see what that has to do with it," she said. Max looked at his watch, then turned squarely and faced her. "With me, you mean. Very likely not. But there is a remote connection or I shouldn't ask. Are you going to take Nick with you?" "He is going part of the way," said Olga, striving for dignity. "Only part?" "As far as the station," she returned, almost in spite of herself. "Going up to town, is he?" said Max. "Well, that doesn't help much. Take one of the boys!" "I don't want one of the boys," Olga spoke with sudden irritation. "Violet is going with me," she said. His face changed very slightly, almost imperceptibly. "In that case you must take Mitchel," he said. "How absurd!" exclaimed Olga. "No, it isn't absurd. It's quite reasonable from my point of view. If you can't take Mitchel with you, I can't spare the car." He smiled a little as he pronounced this decision, but quite plainly his mind was made up. Olga bit her lip in exasperation. "Do you think I am not to be trusted to take care of her?" she asked him scornfully. "I shall ask Nick if I need do anything so ridiculous!" "Here he is," said Nick, coming lightly up behind her with the words. "What's the trouble now? If you are requiring my valuable advice, it is quite at your service."