Any voice would have given her a surprise at that moment, but the voice of Max Wyndham was an absolute shock that set every nerve on edge.
He laughed at her from the sofa, on which he sprawled at length.

"My good child, your nerves are like fiddle-strings after a frost.

Remind me to make you up a tonic when we get back! Did you bicycle over ?" Olga ignored the question.

She was for the moment too angry to speak.
"Sit down," he said.

"You ought to know better than to scorch on a day like this.