h! I knew it. He can do anything he likes with you. But I am
different." She lifted her head proudly. "I am no man's slave," she
said. "He thinks that he has only to speak, and I shall obey. He was
never more mistaken in his life."

"But, Violet, he was only treating you as a patient," Olga protested.
"And he only took the cigarettes because--"

"I know why he took them." Quickly Violet interrupted. "And remember
this, Allegro! Whatever happens to me in the future you must never,
never let him attend me again. I suffered more from his treatment than I
have ever suffered before, and I can never go through it again. You
understand?" She looked at Olga with eyes that had in them the memory of
a great pain. "It was torture," she said. "He forced his will upon mine.
He crushed me down, so that I was at his mercy. It was like an
overpowering weight. I thought my heart would stop. I don't know--even
now--how it was I didn't die."

"He gave you the pain-killer, dear," said Olga soothingly. "That was
what made you well again."

"The pain-killer!" Violet gazed at her bewildered. "What is--the
pain-killer?" she said.

Olga shook her head. "I don't know what it is. He wouldn't tell me. He
calls it--sudden death."

Violet gave a great start. "Good heavens, Allegro! And he gave me that?"

"Only enough to make you sleep," explained Olga. "He gave me some the
other day, when the heat upset me. I liked it."

Violet's eyes were glittering very strangely. "And you--came back again
after it?" she said. "Allegro, are you--sure?"

"Of course," said Olga. "I don't know what you mean, dear. Of course I
came back, or I shouldn't be here now."

"No--no, of course not!" Violet lay back in her chair, gazing straight
up through the limes at the flawless August sky. "So that is why I
didn't die," she said. "He only let me go--half-way. If I'd only had a
little more--a little more--" She broke off suddenly and threw a quick
side glance at Olga. "What queer creatures doctors are!" she said. "They
spend their whole lives fighting, with the certainty that they are bound
to be conquered in the end."

"They are splendid!" said Olga, with shining eyes.

"Oh, do you think so? I never can. If they fought suffering only, it
would be a different thing. That I could admire. But to fight death--"
Violet made a curious little gesture of the hands--"it seems to me like
tilting at a windmill," she said. "Everyone must die sooner or later."

"But no