"Polo!" Olga stared at him. "Nick! How could he?"
"Heaven knows! I suppose he would hang on with his knees, and swipe when he got the chance. He'd need some deuced intelligent ponies though."
"He couldn't possibly do it!" Olga declared. "He mustn't try."
"Think you can prevent him?" asked Noel curiously.
"He won't if I beg him not to," she said.
"Oh, that's how you manage him, is it? Does he always come to heel that way?"
Olga's eyes flashed a loving glance down the table towards her hero.
"There is no one in the world like Nick," she said softly.
"It's good to be Nick," remarked Noel, with his impudent smile. "It's quite evident that he can do no wrong."
She laughed and turned the subject. Nick was too near and dear to discuss with an outsider.
They began to talk of polo. A match had been arranged for Boxing Day.
Noel was a keen player, and had plenty to say about it.