He spoke in such perfectly normal, everyday tones that unconsciously
Diana's rigid muscles relaxed, and she extended her hand in response.
"I'm feeling sick with fright," she replied, giving him a wavering smile.
Max laughed easily.
"Of course. Otherwise you wouldn't be the artiste that you are. But it will all go the moment you're on the platform."
She looked up at him with a faint hope in her eyes.
"Do you really think so?" she whispered.
"I'm sure. It always does," he lied cheerfully. "I'll tell you who is far more nervous than you are, and that's the Rector. Miss Stair and Jerry were almost forcibly holding him down in his seat when I left them. He's disposed to bolt out of the hall and await results at the hotel."
Diana laughed outright.
"How like him! Poor Pobs!"
"You'd better give him a special smile when you get on the platform to reassure him," continued Max, his blue eyes smiling down at her.