Then slowly, reluctantly, she turned to Max. He was standing watching her with fixed, implacable eyes.
"Well?" he said, as she looked at him. "Do you really want me to deny this preposterous story?"
She leaned against the wall, facing him. She felt unutterably tired—as if she were too weary to take any further interest in anything. Neither his denial nor Nick's could make the tale untrue.
"It doesn't make much difference," she said drearily.
"Thanks!" said Max shortly.
And then, as if suddenly making up his mind, he came to her and took her almost roughly by the shoulders.
"Olga," he said, "how dare you believe this thing of me?"
She looked at him and her face quivered. "You have never told me the truth," she said.
"And so you are ready to believe any calumny," said Max. His hands pressed upon her; his red brows were drawn together.
At any other moment she would have deemed him formidable, but she was beyond fear just then.