inevitably precipitate matters. No, the only possible course is to leave
things alone for the present. The symptoms are slight, and though it is
impossible to say from moment to moment what will happen, the chances
are that if we can keep Hunt-Goring from doing any further mischief, the
disease may remain in a stationary condition for some time. In that case
you may manage to get Olga away on this tom-fool expedition of yours to
India before any serious development takes place."

"I see," said Nick. "And you are convinced that a serious development is
inevitable?"

"Absolutely." Max came strolling back from the window with eyes fixed
and far-seeing. "It is as plain as a pike-staff to any professional man.
Kersley detected it at once--as I knew he would; and that was before the
midnight episode in Olga's room. Yes, it's bound to come. It may be
gradual. It may even take the form of paralysis. But with her
temperament I don't think that very likely. It will probably come
suddenly as a sequel to some shock or violent agitation. But
come--sooner or later--it must."

He spoke slowly, with the deliberation of absolute certainty. Reaching
the mantelpiece he lodged himself against it and smoked with his eyes on
the ceiling.

Nick watched him with a veiled scrutiny from the depths of his chair.
"So that is the verdict," he said at last.

Max nodded without speaking.

"And how long have you known?"

"About a month."

"But you knew them before then?"

Max looked down at him with a slight gesture that passed unexplained.
"As long as I have known the Ratcliffes," he said.

"It must have been something of a shock to you," suggested Nick.

Max's jaw hardened. "I was infinitely more interested in her when I
knew," he said.

"Really?" said Nick.

"Yes, really." Max spoke with finality. "I assure you I am not
impressionable," he added a moment later with the cynical twist of the
lips that Olga knew so well. "And I never play with fire. That form of
amusement doesn't attract me."

A sudden humorous glitter shone between Nick's half-closed eyelids. "But
even serious people burn their fingers sometimes," he observed. "I
presume you haven't proposed yet?"

"Yes, I have." Max spoke with dogged assertiveness.

Nick jerked upright. "The deuce you have!"

"You needn't excite yourself," Max assured him grimly. "We are not
officially engaged yet--or likely to be. You needn't stick your spoke
in. She knows I shan't marry her