Olga passed the flippant question over.  “It’s a half-holiday then, is it?” she said.

“Well, as it happens, fair lady, it is, all thanks to Dame Stubbs of ‘The Ship Inn’ who summoned me hither with great urgency and then was ungrateful enough to die before I reached her.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Olga.  “Is old Mrs. Stubbs dead?”

“She is,” said Max.

She turned upon him.  “And you’ve just come—­from her death-bed?”

He arose and stretched himself.  “Even so, fair lady.”

Olga stared at him incredulously.  “You actually—­don’t care?” she asked slowly.

“Not much good caring,” said Max.

“What did she die of?” questioned Olga.

He hesitated for a second.  Then, “cancer,” he said briefly.

“Did she suffer much?” She asked the question nervously as if she feared the answer.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” said Max, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t tell me that.”  Olga spoke with a flash of indignation.  “It does matter in my opinion.”

“Nothing that’s past matters,” said Max.

“I don’t agree with you!” Hotly she made answer, inexplicably hurt by his callous tone.  “It matters a lot to me.  She was a friend of mine.  If I had known she was seriously ill, I’d have gone to see her.  You—­I think you might have told me.”

She turned with the words as if to go, but Max coolly stepped to the door before her.  He stretched a hand as if to open it, but paused, holding it closed.

“I was not aware that the old woman was a friend of yours,” he said.  “But it wouldn’t have done much good to anyone if you had seen her.  She probably wouldn’t have known you.”

“I might have taken her things at least,” said Olga.

“Which she wouldn’t have touched,” he rejoined.

She clenched her hands unconsciously.  Why was he so maddeningly cold-blooded?

“Do you mind opening the door?” she said.

But he remained motionless, his hand upon it.  “Do you mind telling me where you are going?” he said.

Her eyes blazed.  “Really, Dr. Wyndham, what is that to you?”

He stood up squarely and faced her, his back against the door.  “I will answer your question when you have answered mine.”

She restrained herself with an effort.  How she hated the man!  Conflict with him made her feel physically sick; and yet she had no choice.

“I am going down to ‘The Ship’ at once,” she said, “to see her daughter.”

“Pardon me!” said Max.  “I thought that was your intention.  I am sorry to have to frustrate it, but I must.  I assure you Mrs. Briggs will have plenty of other visitors to keep her amused.”

“I am going nevertheless,” said Olga.

She saw his jaw coming into sudden prominence, and her heart gave a hard quick throb of misgiving.  They stood face to face in the dimness, neither uttering a word.