"You will not be long, Olga? If your father knew—"
"My father will not know," broke in her daughter, leading the elder woman to the door. "You will not tell him. Besides," (she shrugged), "we women are free in England. What would shock my father is good form in this delightful country."
The Princess murmured something to Giles in a sleepy tone, and lounged out of the room bulky but graceful. When she departed and the door was closed, Olga threw open the windows. "Pah!" she said, throwing the pastiles out of doors, "I cannot breathe in this atmosphere. And you, Mr. Ware?"
"I prefer untainted airs," he replied, accepting a cigarette.
"The airs of the moors and of the mountains," she exclaimed, drawing herself up and looking like a huntress in her free grace. "I also. I love wide spaces and chill winds. If we were in the Carpathians, you and I, how savage our life would be!"
"An alluring picture, Princess."
"I am not Princess at present. I am Olga!"
"Mademoiselle Olga," he corrected. "And what about Anne?"
She appeared annoyed by his persistence. "You think of nothing but that woman," she cried impetuously.
"Your friend, mademoiselle."