he said.

But she stood silent, trying to muster strength to defy him.

"What do you want to go for?" he demanded.

"I want to know--I want to know--" She stammered over her answer; it was
uttered against her will.

"Well? What?" Still holding her, he put the question. "I can tell you
anything you want to know."

"But you won't!" Olga plucked up her spirit at this. "It's no good
asking you anything. You never answer."

"I will answer you," he said.

"And besides--" said Olga.

"Yes?" said Max.

"You're so horrid," she burst out, "so cold-blooded, so--so--so
unsympathetic!"

To her own amazement and dismay, she found herself in tears. In the
same instant she was free and the door left unguarded; but she did not
use her freedom to escape. Somehow she did not think of that. She only
leaned against the wall with her hands over her face and wept.

Max, with his hands deep in his pockets, strolled about the room,
whistling below his breath. The gleam had died out of his eyes, but the
brows met fiercely above them. His face was the face of a man working
out a difficult problem.

Suddenly he walked up to her, and stood still.

"Look here," he said; "can't you manage to be sensible for a minute? If
you go on in this way you will soon get hysterical, and I don't think my
treatment for hysterics would appeal to you. Olga, are you listening?"

Yes, she was listening--listening tensely, because she could not help
herself.

"I'm sorry you think me a brute," he proceeded. "I don't think anyone
else does, but that's a detail. I am also sorry that you're upset about
old Mrs. Stubbs, though I don't see much sense in crying for her now her
troubles are over. I think myself that it was just as well I didn't
reach her in time. I should only have prolonged her misery. That's one
of the grand obstacles in the medical career. I've kicked against it a
good many times." He paused.

"She did suffer then?" whispered Olga, commanding herself with an
effort.

"When she wasn't under the influence of morphia--yes. That was the only
peace she knew. But of course it affected her brain. It always does, if
you keep on with it."

Olga's hands fell. She straightened herself. "Then--you think she is
better dead?" she said.

He squared his great shoulders, and she felt infinitely small. "If I
could have followed my own inclination with that old woman," he said, "I
should have given her a free pass long ago. But--I am not authorized