"No, I can't stop, thanks. I've said good-bye to everyone else, and time
is up. Don't go and get smashed up at polo! If she doesn't want you now,
she will very soon. Bear that in mind!"

Noel's dark eyes shone. "The only risks I'm likely to take would be for
her safety. I wish to Heaven Ratcliffe could be made to see the danger
they are in."

Max smiled a little. "I've been talking to him. We touched on that
point. He knows--rather more on the subject than we do."

"But he makes light of it," Noel protested. "The place is infested with
_budmashes_ and he rather encourages them than otherwise. I myself
kicked an old blackguard of a moonstone-seller--or so he described
himself--off his premises only the other night."

Max broke into a laugh. "Did you though?"

"Yes. What is there to laugh at? Wouldn't you have done the same? And
when I told Nick the day after, he described the old beggar as a friend
of his."

Max was still laughing. "What a devil of a fellow you are! I've seen the
old gentleman myself. I rather think he is a friend. How did he take the
kicking?"

"Oh, I don't know. He cursed a bit and went. What's the joke, I say?"

Noel's voice was imperious. He was always somewhat impatient of matters
beyond his comprehension. But Max turned the subject off.

"You're such a peppery chap--always wanting to fight someone. Well, I
must be gone. You'll remember not to fight Hunt-Goring?"

"No. I shan't fight the brute unless he interferes." Noel followed him
to the door and stood a moment. "I say, Max," he suddenly said, "was
this affair Hunt-Goring's doing?"

"What affair?" Max spoke as one bored with the subject.

But Noel persisted. "Was it thanks to Hunt-Goring that this split with
Olga came about?"

Max faced about. There was a very peculiar smile in his green eyes.
"Well," he said very deliberately, "I don't say Hunt-Goring's influence
has been exactly a genial one. But that fact in itself would not have
much difference. The main reason is the one I have given you. If you are
not satisfied with that--then you will never be satisfied with
anything--and you won't deserve to be." He held out his hand. "Good-bye,
lad! And again--good luck!"

Noel wrung the hand. They looked each other in the eyes, and Noel spoke
impulsively as his habit was, but with genuine feeling. "Good-bye, old
chap! I hope you'll get to the tip-top of the tree and stay there." He
added, seeing Max's mouth go down, "But I know ver