voice.

Olga's fingers closed tightly on his hand. "Is that why you are so
anxious to get married?" she asked, in a muffled voice.

Max's fingers responded so swiftly and so mercilessly that she cried out
with the pain. "Max! How brutal!"

"You deserved it," said Max without compunction.

"But I didn't! I only asked a simple question," she protested.

"No, you didn't; it was a compound one." He opened his hand and sternly
regarded the crushed fingers. "If you develop claws, Olga," he said,
"you must expect trouble."

She laughed again. "It isn't a question of developing: they're
there--full-grown. Do you remember that day I stabbed you with my
darning-needle?"

"I do," said Max. He turned his hand over and showed her a small white
scar on the back. "I suppose you never realized that that was the
beginning of everything?"

"It wasn't with me!" declared Olga. "I could have slain you that night!"

"Because I told you you ought to be whipped," said Max. "It was quite
true, you know. Dr. Jim would have said the same. He would probably have
done it too."

"I'm sure he wouldn't!" Olga lay back in the hammock with the scarred
hand between her own. "Dad is very just. He would have realized that you
were quite insufferable."

"That wouldn't have justified you, my child," maintained Max.

She snapped her fingers at him. "I'd do it again to-day if you were as
horrid as you were then."

"Not you!" said Max.

She opened her eyes. "You think I wouldn't dare?"

He looked back at her with composure. "It is more a matter of caring
than daring, my dear," he said. "Your heart wouldn't be in it. But you
are afraid of me all the same."

She coloured and turned the subject. "When is Sir Kersley going to make
you his partner?"

"Directly I return," said Max.

"And when will that be?"

He considered a moment. "I expect to reach England in a month from now."

"Max!" She sat up again quickly. "Oh, you're not going so soon!" she
said.

He put his arm round her shoulders. "But you will be coming back
yourself in April. Nick told me so."

"In April! But that's aeons away!" protested Olga.

His eyes looked down into hers, and the old gleam which once she had
taken for mockery hovered there. Her own eyes flickered and sank before
it. There was something quick and fiery in it that she could not meet.

"I'll take you back with me," he said, "if you will come."

She started a little. "Oh, no!" she said.

"Why 'Oh, no'?"