"You!" "Well, what about me ?" Carelessly, his hands in his pockets, Max put the question.

Quite obviously he did not care in the smallest degree what answer she made.
And so Olga, being stung to rage by his unbearable superiority, cast scruples to the wind.
"I'd do the same to you again--and worse," she declared vindictively, "if I got the chance!" Max smiled at that superciliously, one corner of his mouth slightly higher than the other.

"Oh, no, you wouldn't," he said.

"For one thing, you wouldn't care to run the risk of having to sew me up again.

And for another, you wouldn't dare!" "Not dare! Do you think I am afraid of you ?" Olga stood in a streak of sunlight that slanted through the wire blind of the doctor's surgery and fell in chequers upon her white dress.