“I’m at your orders, Olivia,” he replied.
She caught her breath and stiffened. “We must talk to-morrow—when we have both recovered.”
“I’ll be here any hour you name,” said Alexis. Radnor and his garage could go to the devil.
“Nine o’clock?”
“Nine o’clock,” said he. “Good night, Olivia.”
“Wait.”
The memory of the scandal crashed down on her. . . .
“I may as well tell you now—the night may bring counsel—I’m in a terrible position. Wedderburn and Onslow—you remember?”
“I do,” he said.
She told him rapidly of her pledge.