e. Akbar is
no longer under his influence. He will strike out a line for himself
now. I've won him round to the British raj, and if he isn't assassinated
by Kobad's people, he'll do. It's a pity they can't have martial law for
a bit," he added to Sir Reginald. "They would settle in half the time.
Hang a few, shoot a few, and--"

"Nick!" said Olga, in astonishment.

He stretched out his one hand and laid it on her knee. "And flog a few,"
he finished, smiling at her. "There would be some chance for the State
then. Yes, I'm a blood-thirsty creature. Didn't you know? One can't wear
gloves for this game."

Olga held his hand in silence. She had learned more of Nick in the past
five months than she had ever known before. Undoubtedly he had become
more of the man to her and less of the hero. She did not love him any
the less for it, but her attitude towards him was different.

She knew he had divined the change, and suspected him of being amused
thereby--a suspicion which he strengthened by saying with a laugh, "You
didn't know I could be such a brute, did you?"

She smiled back a little wistfully. "I begin to think you could be
almost anything, Nick," she said.

He shot her a swift glance, and it seemed to her for a moment that he
was looking for a double meaning to her words. But apparently he found
none, for he smiled again with the comfortable remark, "Ah, well, it's a
useful faculty if exercised with discretion. What are you going to wear
to-night? Let's hear all about it!"

That was the new Nick all over, displaying the male denseness with which
she had never been wont to credit him. She gave him details of her
costume without much ardour, he listening with careless comments.

"You don't sound very keen," he said suddenly. "I believe you're getting
_blase_."

"These things get a little monotonous, don't they?" said Sir Reginald.

His smile was sympathetic. She felt inexplicably that he understood her
better than did Nick. He had fathomed the deadly weariness that Nick had
overlooked.

"Go on!" commanded Nick. "Who are you going to dance with?"

She hesitated a little, and he turned his hand and pinched her fingers
somewhat mercilessly. "Noel of course--he's too handsome to refuse,
isn't he? And the rest of the boys will expect their share, doubtless.
But remember--the supper-dances are mine."

She started a little. "Oh, Nick dear, I'm afraid I've promised those
already."

"To whom?" said Nick swiftly.