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"Are you waiting to see me drink my tea?" asked Violet, rousing herself in response to Olga's hand on her arm. "I am," he said. "Oh, well, that's soon done," she said, and raised the cup to her lips. Max smoked on, taciturn and frowning. Violet finished her tea, and asked for more. He finished his cigarette and turned to her. "I wonder if you would let me try one of yours."
Advancing, she saw with amazement that he was kneeling close to the couch, with Olga's hand in his, and his bowed head close to her face. When she reached the lounge she found that Olga was weeping bitterly, while now and then heavy sobs convulsed her feeble frame. "Mr. Palma, do you want to throw her back into delirium by this cruel excitement? Do go away, and leave us in peace."
"I could not sleep, and am unwilling to leave her until the doctor arrives." "You look utterly exhausted." "I am stronger than I seem." "Mrs. Palma tells me that you have been made acquainted with the unfortunate infatuation which has overshadowed poor Olga's life for some years at least. I should be glad to know what you have learned."
Never had Lucia "scored" so amazingly as over Olga's late appearance, which had the effect of bringing back all her departed guests with the compulsion of a magnet over iron-filings, and sending up the whole party like a rocket into the zenith of social success.
"The body," he said, "is like a suit of clothes that you lay aside till the time comes for it to be renovated and made wearable again." "Ah! She couldn't die, could she, Nick?" Olga's eyes implored him. "Not she herself!" she urged. "She was so full of life. I can't realize it. I can't I can't! Tell me how it happened! Surely I never saw her dead!
To Olga's dismay he showed no disposition to depart when they rose from the luncheon-table. Violet suggested a move to the garden, and he fell in with the proposal with a readiness that plainly showed that he had every intention of inflicting his company upon them for some time longer.
By that time the growing frequency of the disappearance of sundry small articles of value and convenience led to Billy's making a reluctant search of Olga's room and to Olga's departure; for the room was, indeed, a treasure house, the Treasure having gathered unto itself other treasures.
Together then the old couple searched the dead man's bags and his pockets. They found papers and certain marks on his body. They knew then that they had murdered their own son. The old man hobbled all the way to the nearest village, where he sent a letter to Olga's father and bought a clothes-line to take home. The journey took him an entire day.
He enjoyed the pleasant social intercourse with Olga's friends, while the friendship which had sprung up between the fair countess and himself was a source of never-ending delight. It broke in upon and dispersed his gloomy thoughts, and served as a balm to his lacerated heart. Sometimes D'Arnot accompanied him on his visits to the De Coude home, for he had long known both Olga and the count.
"Won't you take her downstairs?" interposed the nurse, and Olga wondered a little at the compassion in her voice. "She would be the better for a cup of tea." "So she would," said Nick. "Come along, Olga mia!" His arm was about her still. They went down the wide dim stairs, he and she and the great wolf-hound who submitted to Olga's hand upon him though plainly against his own judgment.
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