"And you?" asked Sir Kersley.
"Oh, I am too busy for frivolities of that sort," said Max. "My mind is entirely occupied with drugs. Ask Miss Ratcliffe if it isn't!"
Olga looked a little scornful. It suddenly seemed to her that Max Wyndham required a snub. She was spared the trouble of administering one, however, by the reappearance of the housemaid.
She rose. "Do you want me, Ellen?"
"Oh, no, miss. It's all right," was Ellen's breezy reply. "I only just come to say as it was Dr. Wyndham as brought in them raspberries—early this morning."
Ellen disappeared as Max popped the cork of a soda-water bottle with unexpected violence. He clapped his hand over the top and carried it bubbling to the window.
"Awfully sorry," he said. "The beastly stuff is so up this weather."
Olga followed him with his glass. "Thank you for rescuing my raspberries," she said.
Max rubbed himself down with a handkerchief and took the glass from her.
He was somewhat red in the face. He looked at her with a queer smile.
"Confound that girl!" he said.