“Noel’s?” he said.

She nodded.

There was a brief silence, during which she dared not look round.  Then he spoke, his voice drily humorous.  “I suppose you thanked him for it then?”

“No, I didn’t,” she said.  “At least—­at least—­I was vexed, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“No?” said Max, in the same cynical tone.

Her hand slipped free at last.  She spoke more firmly.  “I told him I couldn’t accept it.”

“Poor Noel!” observed Max.  He took his hand from her shoulder also, and she knew that he thrust it into his pocket.  “And what did he say to that?”

She hesitated.  “Well, of course he—­he explained—­that he hadn’t sent it.”

“And you believed him?”

“Of course I did.  He—­we thought perhaps it was a hoax.”

Max grunted; she wondered if he were seriously displeased.  And then abruptly he turned her thoughts in another direction.  “Well, now that you know the truth,—­what are you going to do about it?”

The question came with the utmost coolness, but yet in some fashion it sounded like a challenge.  She felt compelled to turn and face him.

Thick-set and British, he confronted her.  “Before you decide,” he said, “there’s just one little thing I should like you to remember.  You may not have been in love with me—­I don’t think you were; but you engaged yourself to me quite a long time ago.”

Olga’s hands were locked together.  But she met the challenge unflinching, unafraid.  Quite suddenly she knew how to answer it.  Yet she waited, not answering, her pale eyes shining, her whole being strung to throbbing expectation.

He came a step nearer to her, looking at her very intently.  “Well?” he said.

She made a little fluttering movement with her clasped hands.  Her face was raised unfalteringly to his.  “I haven’t forgotten,” she said.

“But you thought I had,” said Max.

Her lips quivered.  “So many things have happened since then,” she said, in a low voice.

“What of that?” he said, and suddenly there was a deep note in his voice that she had never heard before.  “Do you think that so long as the world holds us both I would be content without you?”

The words were few, but they thrilled her as never had she been thrilled before.  There came again to her that breathless feeling as though an immense wave had suddenly burst over her.  She raised her face gasping, half-frightened.  She even had a wild impulse to turn and flee.

But it was gone on the instant, for very suddenly Max Wyndham’s arms closed about her, holding her fast, and she had no choice but to surrender.  With a sob she yielded herself to him, clinging very tightly, her face hidden with a desperate shyness against his shoulder.

He spoke no word of love, simply holding her in silence during those first great moments.  But at length his hand came up and lay quietly, reassuringly, upon her head.  She quivered under it for a little.  He waited till she was still.