"Say I will see the moonstone before it is sent away!"
The man departed, and Nick rose. "Afraid I shall have to go to the
Palace, sir. Olga, you must take care of Sir Reginald in my absence."
"What! Now, Nick?" Olga looked up in swift surprise.
"Yes, now, my child. Good-bye!" He stooped and lightly kissed her. "I daresay I shan't be late back. If I am, you must go to the Ball without me, and get Sir Reginald to take care of you. I shall turn up some time, you may be sure."
"Important, is it?" asked Sir Reginald.
Nick nodded. "I ought to go, sir. Don't wait for me. I shall follow on if I'm late. In any case," he turned to Olga, "I shall be in time for those supper-dances."
His look flashed over her with a species of quizzical tenderness. "And you are not to give any dances to Hunt-Goring, mind, whatever the bounder says."
He was gone. Free, careless, upright, he strode humming along the verandah and swung round the corner out of sight.
A brief silence descended upon the two who were left. Olga glanced once or twice at Sir Reginald, whose brows were drawn in deep thought.
At length, with slight hesitation she spoke, voicing the anxiety that had been growing within her for many days. "Sir Reginald, do you think he is in any danger when he goes to the city?"