She was finally aroused without ceremony by Violet, who skipped airily into the room, clad in a daring sea-green wrapper that revealed more of her charms than it concealed.
"Oh, my dear soul, are you awake?" was her greeting, as she perched herself on the foot of the bed. "I've just had the very sweetest note from Hunt-Goring accompanied by a box of the most exquisite Eastern cigarettes—'Companions of the Harem,' he says they are called. And how are you feeling now, you poor wan thing? What interesting shadows you have developed! I wish I could make my eyes look like that. The revered Max suffered agonies about you last night, and nearly slew me with a glance because I dared to touch my mandolin after dinner. Poor little Nick was rather blue too though he did at least try to be courteous. What made you go and get sunstroke, Allegretto? Rather unnecessary, wasn't it? He was quite obviously at your feet without that. Of course you realize how completely my wiles have been thrown away on him. I declare I was never so humiliated in my life. However, I daresay I shall get over it. If I don't, I shall take refuge in Hunt-Goring's harem. Good gracious! What now?"
A smart rap at the door had interrupted her plans for her future. She sprang off the end of Olga's bed, and stood poised on one foot, listening.
"Can I come in?" asked Max on the other side of the door.
Olga's face flushed scarlet. Violet shot her a glance of mock dismay.
"My dear, I wonder which would be the least improper," she said. "To go or to remain?"
"For pity's sake, put something on!" urged Olga. "There's my dressing-gown. Take that!"
But Violet had already snatched up a bath-towel which she draped about her with scarf-like effect.
"This will do quite well and is infinitely more artistic. Pray come in,
Dr. Wyndham! The patient is quite ready for you."
Max came in. He scarcely looked at either girl, but halted just inside the room, holding the door wide open.