But you are not so wise in resenting her refusal to kiss the place and make it well.

I speak from the point of view of the chaperon, remember." "Who told you anything about a needle ?" demanded Max, suddenly turning brick-red..
"That's my affair," said Nick.
"And mine!" "No, pardon me, not yours!" Again his eyes took a leaping glance at his companion.
Doggedly Max faced it.

"Did she tell you ?" "Who ?" said Nick.
"Olga." He flung the name with half-suppressed resentment.

His attitude in that moment was aggressively British.

He looked as he had looked to Olga that afternoon, undeniably formidable.
But Nick remained unimpressed.