Olga gazed at her helplessly. "Violet, what am I to say to you? How could you and I go off for a whole day with that detestable man? Why, it—it would start everyone talking!"
"My dear, no one will know," said Violet with composure. "Haven't you sworn to keep it a dead secret? He won't talk and neither shall I. So, you see, it's all perfectly safe. Not that there would be anything improper about it in any case. He is as old as you and me put together,—older I should say."
"Oh, but he's such a fiend!" burst forth Olga. "You said you were going to give him up only the other night."
"When?" said Violet sharply.
Olga hesitated. It was the first time she had made direct reference to that midnight episode.
"When did I say that?" insisted Violet.
Half-reluctantly Olga made reply, while Violet leaned forward and listened intently. "The night before last. You came to my room late, don't you remember?"
Violet's eyes had a startled look. "Yes?" she breathed. "Yes? What else?"
Olga looked straight up at her. "Dear, I don't think we need talk about it, need we? You were not yourself. I think you were half-asleep. You had been smoking those hateful cigarettes."
"Ah, but tell me!" insisted Violet. "Why did I come to you? What did I say? Was—was Max there?"