Max remained looking at her. There was a glint of mercilessness in his eyes. "What right?" he repeated slowly. "If you saw a blind man walking over a precipice, would you say you hadn't the right to stop him?" "I am not blind!" she flung back at him. "And I refuse to be stopped by you--or anyone!" Max raised his red brows. "You amaze me," he said. "Then you are aware of the precipice?" She clenched her hands. "I know what I am doing--yes! And I can guide myself. I refuse to be guided by you!" "Violet!" Nervously Olga interposed. "Never mind now, dear! Do sit down and have some breakfast! The eggs are getting cold." "Quite so," said Nick, putting down his letters abruptly. "The coffee also. Olga, you may tear up all my correspondence. It's nothing but bills. Miss Campion, wouldn't you like to butter some toast for me? You do it better than anyone I know. And I'm deuced hungry." She turned away half-mechanically, met his smile of cheery effrontery, and suddenly flashed him a smile in return. "What a gross flatterer you are!" she said "Allegro, aren't you jealous? Which piece of toast do you fancy, Nick? Can I cut up some ham for you as well?" The tension was over and Olga breathed again. Max continued his breakfast with an inscrutable countenance, finished it, and departed to the surgery. Violet did not so much as glance up at his departure. She was wrangling with Nick over the best means of attacking a boiled egg with one hand. There was no longer the faintest hint of tragedy in her demeanour. Yet Olga went about her own duties with a heart like lead. She was beginning to understand Max's attitude at last; and it filled her with misgiving. CHAPTER XVI SECRETS The rest of that day was passed in so ordinary a fashion that Olga found herself wondering now and then if she could by any chance have dreamed the events of the night. During the whole of the morning she was occupied with her jam-making, while Violet lazed in the garden. Nick had planned a motor-ride in the afternoon, and they went for miles, returning barely in time for dinner. Violet was in excellent spirits throughout, and seemed unconscious of fatigue, though Olga was so weary that she nearly fell asleep in the drawing-room after the meal. Max was in one of his preoccupied moods, and scarcely addressed a word to anyone. Only when he bade her good-night she had a curious feeling that his hand-grip was intended to convey something more than mere convention demanded. She withdrew her own hand very quickly. For some reason she was feeling a little afraid of Max.