do so."

Again momentarily Olga's eyes flashed upwards, comprehending the whole
of his thick-set figure in a single sweep of the eyelids. He was
exceedingly British in build, possessing in breadth what he lacked in
height. There was a bull-dog strength about his neck and shoulders that
imparted something of a fighting look to his general demeanour. He bore
himself with astounding self-assurance.

"Have you had any tea?" Olga inquired somewhat curtly. She was inwardly
wondering what he had come for. He usually had a very definite reason
for all he did.

"Many thanks," he replied, balancing himself on the edge of the hammock.
"I am deeply touched by your solicitude for my welfare. I partook of tea
at the Campions' half an hour ago."

"At the Campions'!" There was quick surprise in Olga's voice.

It elicited no explanation however. He sat and swayed in the hammock as
though he had not noticed it.

After a moment she turned and looked at him fully. The green eyes were
instantly upon her, alert and critical, holding that gleam of satirical
humour that she invariably found so exasperating.

"Well?" said Olga at last.

"Well, fair lady?" he responded, with bland serenity.