"I assure you it is far more satisfying than tilting at windmills," she said.
Max straightened himself. There seemed to Olga something pitiless about him, a deadliness of purpose that made him cruel. And in that moment she became aware of a strong antagonism between these two that almost amounted to open hostility.
"A matter of opinion," said Max. "I suppose we each of us have our patent method of killing time."
Violet uttered an indolent laugh. "Yours is a very strenuous one," she observed. "I believe you imagine yourself invincible in your own particular line, don't you?"
"Not at present," said Max, with his twisted smile.
She laughed again, mockingly. "Irresistible then, shall we say?"
He had turned to go, but he paused at the question and looked back at her, grimly ironical. Olga had a feeling that the green eyes comprehended her also.
"No," he said, with extreme deliberation. "Not even that. But—since you ask me—the odds are certainly very greatly in my favour."
And with that he turned on his heel, still smiling, and sauntered away.
As he went, Violet stooped towards Olga with a face gone suddenly white, and grasped her arm.