se."

"There is only Captain Ratcliffe here," said Olga.

"Then p'raps he'll be good enough to wait outside," said Mrs. Briggs,
with the air of a general issuing his orders. "You can come in, Miss
Olga, and for pity's sake soothe the pore dear as much as you can. She's
well-nigh wore herself out."

Olga glanced round for Nick, and found him at her side.

"Look here, Olga," he said, speaking in a rapid whisper, "you are not to
lock that door. Understand? I say it!"

She hesitated. "But if------"

"I won't have it done," he said. "You must pretend to lock it. Mind, if
I find that door locked, I shall have it forced, and take you away."

"But she may ask me, Nick," Olga objected.

"If she does, you must lie to her," he said inexorably.

Olga abandoned the discussion somewhat reluctantly, anticipating
difficulties.

He laid his hand for an instant on her arm as she prepared to enter.
"You understand I am in earnest, don't you?" he said.

She looked into his queer, yellow face with a feeling that was almost
awe as she answered meekly. "Yes, Nick."

"And don't forget it," he said, as he let her go.

CHAPTER XXI

ON THE BRINK

"Is that you, Allegro? There is no one with you?"

Violet raised herself from her pillows, turning a haggard face to meet
her friend. She looked as if years had passed over her. Her great eyes
shone out of dark circles. They looked beyond Olga in evident
apprehension.

"It's only me, darling," said Olga, going swiftly to her.

Feverish hands caught and held her. "Goodness, child! How cold you are!"
exclaimed Violet. "Mrs. Briggs, I can do without you now. You had better
go and look after Briggs." She broke into a brief laugh. "He always gets
up to mischief as soon as your back is turned."

"He can very well look after 'imself," said Mrs. Briggs austerely. "And
I'm not a-goin' to leave you like this, my dearie. But I'll tell you
what I will do. I'll go down to the kitchen and make them lazy hussies
stir themselves and get you a meal of some sort."

In the days when Mrs. Briggs had been Violet's nurse she had reigned
supreme in the Priory kitchen, and she still regarded it as an outlying
portion of her dominions.

Violet leaned back upon her pillows with exhaustion written plainly on
her pale face. "Oh, do as you like, Nanny! But I don't want anything.
I've got my cigarettes."

Mrs. Briggs grunted, and turned to go. The patient Cork here seized the
opportunity to assert