After a short struggle her naturally kindly disposition got the upper hand. "You are quite right. I cannot alter what has already happened, but still the lieutenant was a blackguard; you remember I told you he shot himself later, and that was the best thing he could do."
"Don't be so hard, Olga."
"Pray do not stand up for him," she went on angrily. "I know what you feel: that if a young girl accepts an invitation from an officer she must know quite well what to expect. But I was very young and inexperienced then."
"But, Olga, I cannot understand you to-day. What is the matter with you? Why do you insult the officers in this way. You remember I am one."
"Ah, you," she said tenderly. "You are not really one of them. You are much too honourable. You are a man, the others are stuck-up apes, and besides that, generally liars and betrayers."
"Olga, I beg you with all seriousness to cease making these remarks. Whatever is the matter with you? Shall we stay here or go into the sitting-room?" he asked her presently.
"Let us go into the sitting-room," she replied. She loved the large beautiful room with its splendid carpet, heavy portière and the fine pictures. Best of all she loved the large comfortable leather seat in front of the fire, and every time that she visited George she meant to ask him to let her sit in that chair after dinner. She had never done so, because on every occasion, to-day included, directly they went into the sitting-room George drew out the chaise longue for her, put a cushion under her head, and covered her with a great bear rug. He always did this, and treated her with so much love and such tender consideration that she had not the heart to tell him how uncomfortable she was.
"Are you comfortable, darling?"
Again, from affection, she told him an untruth: "Simply lovely."