She looked up. "As it is?"
He uttered a curt laugh, and sat up, thrusting his hand back into his pocket. "Well—he won't be happy till he gets you."
Olga sprang to her feet. "But, Max, he couldn't marry me against my will! That sort of thing isn't done nowadays."
Max looked at her, his shrewd eyes very cynical. "Quite true!" he said.
"Then—then—" She stood hesitating, looking at him doubtfully—"what is there to be afraid of?" she asked at length.
"Oh, don't ask me!" said Max.
She felt the blood rush back to her face, and turned sharply from him.
"You—you don't help me much," she said.
He got to his feet abruptly. "You won't accept my help," he returned. "You've got yourself into a nasty hole, and you can't climb out alone, and you won't let me pull you out."
Olga was silent.