are of you," said Nick.

She frowned, collecting her wits with difficulty. "It's night, isn't
it?"

"Half-past one," said Nick.

"My dear!" She opened her eyes a little wider. "But what are you waiting
for? Why don't you go to bed?"

"I like sitting up sometimes," said Nick. "Keeps me in form."

She turned her head on the pillow. "Is Max here?"

"No," said Nick.

"But--he has been?" she persisted.

"Yes. He's been in now and then."

"Ah!" Olga frowned still more. "Am I ill, Nick?" she asked, with a touch
of nervousness.

His lean hand sought and held hers. "You've had a touch of sun, dear,"
he said, "but you've slept it off. Max is quite satisfied about you.
You'll feel a bit rotten for a day or two, but that's all."

"How horrid!" said Olga.

"Don't worry!" said Nick. "I'm here. I shall stick like a leech for the
future. You will never be out of my sight again in your waking hours."

She squeezed his hand. "Poor old Nick! I'm dreadfully sorry. But I had
to get those raspberries. Oh, what's that?"

She started violently at the soft opening of the door. Nick got up, but
she clung to him so fast that he could not leave her side. He bent down
over her.

"It's all right, darling. It's only Max with some refreshments. We'll
leave you in peace as soon as you have broken your fast."

"I don't want Max," she whispered. "Please send him away!"

"I'll go like a bird," Max said, "if you will let me take your pulse
first. It isn't much to ask, is it?"

He set down a tray he was carrying, and came and stood beside Nick.
Outlined against the dim light shed by a shaded night-lamp, he looked
gigantically square and strong.

"I won't hurt you, Olga," he said. "Won't you trust me?"

Again his voice was softened to a great gentleness; yet it compelled. In
another second Nick had withdrawn himself, and Max stood alone beside
her bed. He stooped low over her, put back the hair from her forehead,
looked intently into her eyes.

"Are you in pain?" he asked.

"No," she whispered back.

"You are sure? It doesn't hurt you to move your eyes?"

"No," she said again.

He passed his hand again over her forehead, felt her face, her temples,
finally turned his attention to her pulse. As he took out his watch, she
remembered again the two things that had outlasted all other impressions
before she had sunk into her long sleep. And with this memory came
another. She raised her eyes to his grave face.

"Max!"

"In a mo