"Not a bit," said Max. "I shall enjoy it. I think it ought to put an effectual stop to all unwelcome amenities on his part. We'll try it anyhow."
He released her hand, and resumed his darning, still looking quizzical.
Olga lingered, dubiously reminding herself that only a few hours before she had distrusted this man whom circumstance now made her champion.
"Scissors, please!" said Max.
She gave them to him absently. He held out the unsevered wool, his eyes laughing at her over it.
"You can do the cutting," he said.
She complied, and in the same instant she met his look. "Max," she said rather breathlessly, "I—don't quite like it."
"All right," he said imperturbably. "Don't do it!"
She paused, looking at him almost imploringly. "You're sure it won't mean anything?"
"It can mean as much or as little as you like," said Max.