Olga looked at him reproachfully. "You didn't like her, Max?"
"Not much," said Max.
She made a movement as if she would withdraw herself from him, but he quietly and very resolutely held her still. "Although you knew she cared for you!" she said.
"Yes, in spite of that;" said Max. "In fact, I felt a bit vexed with her for complicating matters in that fashion. Goodness knows I never gave her the smallest reason for it!"
Olga laughed faintly, with an unwonted touch of bitterness. "It's a pity women are such doting fools," she said.
He looked at her attentively. "Did you say that?" he asked.
She met his look, not without defiance. "Yes, and I meant it too. It's such a wicked waste. And I think—- I think—in her case it was something far worse. I believe it was that which in a very great measure helped to unhinge her mind."
"How could I help it?" demanded Max almost fierily. "I never wanted her to care."
"That was just the cruel part of it," said Olga. "It was just your utter indifference that broke her heart."
"Good heavens!" said Max.