She turned towards him.  “What an appropriate name!  I wish I’d thought of it.  Do you know him?”

“Know him!” Nick’s grimace was expressive.  “Yes, I know him.”

“Well?”

“Rather better than he thinks.”

She laughed again, lightly, inconsequently, irresistibly.  “He’s a fascinating creature.  It is his proud boast that he has kissed every girl in the neighbourhood except me.”

“What an infernal liar!” said Nick.

“How do you know?” Gaily she challenged him.  “It’s quite probably true.  He is exceedingly popular with the feminine portion of the community.  I notice that friend Max maintains a shocked silence.”

“Not at all,” said Max.  “I was only wondering why he had made an exception of you.”

She tossed her head.  “Can’t you guess?”

“No, I can’t,” he returned daringly.  “I should have thought you would have been the first on the list.”

“How charming of you to say so!” said Violet.  “Perhaps you are not aware of the fact that the sweetest fruit is generally out of reach.”

“You might have let me say that,” said Nick.  “But the man is a liar in any case, and I hope he will give me the opportunity to tell him so.”

Violet regarded him with interest.  “I had no idea you were so pugnacious.  Do you always tell people exactly what you think of them?  Is it safe?”

“Quite safe for him,” said Max.

“Why?” Violet turned back to him, her fingers carelessly plucking at the instrument on her knee.

Max made prompt and unflattering reply.  “Because he’s so obviously gimcrack that no one dares do anything to him for fear he should tumble to pieces.”

“Many thanks!” said Nick.

Violet’s peal of laughter mingled with the weird notes of her mandolin, and Olga, returning, desired to be told the joke.

Nick pulled her down beside him on the sofa.  “Come and take care of me, Olga mia!  I’m being disgracefully maligned.  Can’t you persuade Miss Campion to sing to us, by way of changing the subject?”

“Who has been maligning you?” demanded Olga, looking at Max with very bright eyes.

He looked straight back at her with that gleam in his eyes which with any other man would have denoted admiration but which with him she well knew to be only mockery.

“I admit it, fair lady,” he said.  “I threw a clod of mud at your hero.  I thought it would be good for him.  However, you will be relieved to hear that it went wide of the mark.  He still sits secure in his tight little shrine and smiles magnanimously at my futility.”

Olga’s hand slipped into Nick’s.  “He’s the biggest man you’ve ever seen!” she declared, with warmth.

“Please don’t fight over my body!” remonstrated Nick.  “I never professed to be more than a minnow among Tritons, and quite a lean minnow at that.”

“You’re not, Nick!” declared his champion impetuously.  “You’re a giant!”