There was suddenly a note of anguish in the appeal. Violet drew herself slowly away, as though her friend's arms had ceased to be a haven to her.
But instantly, with a swiftness that was passionate, Olga caught her back.
"I would die for you, my darling! I would sell my soul for you!" she said, and fierce mother-love throbbed in her voice. "But what can I do? O God! what can I do?"
Her voice broke, and she stilled it sharply, as if taken off her guard.
"Can't you open the door for me?" Violet begged again. "Don't you know how?"
But still Olga had no answer for the cry. Only she held her fast.
There followed a long, long pause; then again Violet spoke, more collectedly than she had spoken at all.
"Do you know what that man said to me this morning? He told me I should be a homicidal maniac—like my mother. I didn't realize at the time what that meant. I was too horrified. I know now. And it was the truth. That's what I want you to save me from. Allegro, won't you save me?"
"My darling, how can I?" The words were spoken below Olga's breath. The gathering darkness was closing upon them both.
Violet freed a hand and softly stroked her cheek. "Don't be afraid, dear! No one—but I—will ever know. And I— Allegro, I shall bless you for ever and ever. Wait!" She suddenly started, with caught breath. "Are we alone?"