THE IMPOSSIBLE Could it be true?
Sleeping and waking, sleeping and waking, all through the night Olga asked herself the question; and when morning came she was still unconvinced.

Nothing in Max's manner had ever given her cause to imagine for an instant that he cared for her.

Never for an instant had she seriously imagined that he could care.

Till quite recently she had believed that a very decided antipathy had existed between them.

True, it had not thriven greatly since the writing of her note; but that had been an event of only two days before.