"Well, now you understand, why do you not take it off?"
Olga raised her head and looked straight into Millar's eyes. She said not a word, but drew her cloak more closely about her with a movement that sent a thrill of suspicion and surprise through him.
"Madam, you didn't really?" he cried in amazement.
"Do you think I am a child?" she asked. "Do you imagine that I did not understand your suggestion from the very first? You wanted me to fool Karl. Perhaps I have fooled you. How do you know I am not nude beneath this cloak?"
"Madam!" Millar cried in wide-eyed amazement.
"Now let us see if you will take a chance," Olga said. "Give me your arm, my dear doctor, and we will walk together through the ballroom."
Millar was at a loss for a moment. His imperturbable calm was broken. Olga had matched her woman's intuition against his cunning and had won. But his bewilderment gave way to undisguised admiration, and, bowing as gallantly as a youthful sweetheart, he gave her his arm.
As they were about to leave, however, Karl suddenly barred their way, coming hurriedly in from the ballroom.
"Are you coming in with us, Karl?" Olga asked, as they paused.
"No," Karl almost shouted; "and you are not going—you stay here."