"Olga," he said, "it isn't quite fair of you to treat me like this." "I shall treat you how I like," she said. "No, no, you won't!" he said. His voice was quiet, yet somehow it controlled her. Her wild rebellion began to die down. For a few seconds she stood in palpitating silence. Then, almost under her breath: "Max," she said, "why did you take that other cigarette?" She saw him frown. "Why do you want to know?" Her hands clenched unconsciously. "You are always watching Violet--always spying upon her. Why?" "I can't tell you," he said briefly and sternly. "You can," she said slowly, "if you will." "I won't, then," said Max. She flinched a little, but persisted. "Don't you think I have a right to know? It was I who brought her here. She is--in a sense--under my protection." "What are you afraid of?" Max demanded curtly. She shivered. "I don't know. I believe you are trying to get some power over her." "You don't trust me?" he said, in the same curt tone. "I don't know," she said again. "You do know," he said. She was silent. There seemed nothing left to say. He released her arm slowly. "I am sorry I can't be quite open with you," he said. "But I will pledge you my word of honour that whatever I do is in your friend's interest. Will that make things any easier?" Her eyes fell before his. "I--was a fool to ask you," she said. He did not contradict the statement. "You are going to have a rest now," he said, "before the headache begins." It had begun already, but she did not tell him so. "I would rather go to church," she said. Max looked stubborn. "I always do go," she protested into his silence. "It will do me good to go." "All right," he said, with his one-sided smile. "Then I must go too, that's all." "What for?" she asked quickly. "To bring you home again when you begin to be ill." "I'm not going to be ill!" she declared indignantly. "No," he said. "And you're not going to church either. I'm sorry to thwart your pious intentions, but in your father's absence--" "Oh, don't begin that!" she broke in irritably. "Well, don't you be silly!" said Max good-humouredly. "You know you don't really want to go. It's only because you are cross with me." "It isn't!" she said. "All right. It isn't. Now go and lie down like a good child! I shall come and prescribe for you if you don't." Was it mockery that glinted in his eyes as he thus smilingly quelled her resistance? She asked herself the question as she slowly mounted the stairs. It was a look she had come to know singularly well of late, a look that she resented instinctively because it made her feel so small and puny. It was a look that told her more decidedly than any words that he would have his way with her, resist him as she might.