"I submit to the inevitable," said Nick with a sigh.

Max smiled, the smile of a man who faces considerable odds with complete
confidence. "She doesn't--at present."

Nick's grin of appreciation flashed across his yellow face and was gone.
"No, my friend. And you'll find her very elusive to deal with. You will
never make her like you. I suppose you know that."

"I don't want her to," said Max.

"You make that very obvious," laughed Nick. "It's a mistake. If you
keep bringing her to bay, you'll never catch her. She's always on her
guard with you now. She never breathes freely with you in the room, poor
kid."

"What is she afraid of?" growled Max.

"You know best." Nick glanced up again with sudden keenness. "Don't
harry the child, Wyndham!" he said, a half-whimsical note of pleading in
his voice. "If you know you're going to win through, you can afford to
let her have the honours of war. There's nothing softens a woman more."

"I don't mean to harry her." Max turned squarely round upon him. "But
neither have I the smallest intention of fetching and carrying for her
till she either kicks me or pats me on the head. I shouldn't appreciate
either, and it's a method I don't believe in."

"There I am with you," said Nick. "But for Heaven's sake, man, be
patient! It's no joke, I assure you, if the one woman takes it into her