than dignity. "I'm so sorry, Colonel Campion. The sun is so blazing, I
didn't see you. I've come to fetch Violet. She has promised to spend a
few days with me while Dad is away."

Colonel Campion's thin, bronzed face was grim, but he raised no
objection to the projected visit. He turned at once to Max.

"Hullo, Wyndham! You, is it? Come in and have a drink."

And Olga, feeling herself dismissed, hastened away to find her friend.
She stood somewhat in awe of Colonel Campion, despite the fact that his
young half-sister defied him continually with impunity. There was
something fateful and forbidding about him. He made her think of a man
labouring perpetually under a burden which he resented, but was
compelled to bear. She wondered what he and Max Wyndham could have in
common as she paused at the sea-window on the stairs to cool her cheeks.
He had certainly been pleased in his gloomy fashion to see Max, though
he had not troubled to give her a welcome.

She found that Violet had not proceeded much further with her packing
than when she had left her more than an hour before. She was in fact
lying at careless ease half-dressed upon the bed, deeply immersed in a
book with a lurid paper cover. She scarcely raised her eyes at Olga's
entrance.

"Back already. My dear, you are like quicksilver. Well have I named you
Allegro! It suits you to perfection. Sit down--anywhere! I really can't
attend to you for a few minutes. This is the beastliest thing I've ever
read. You shall have it when I've finished. It's all about the Turkish
massacres in Armenia--revolting--absolutely revolting--" Her voice