"There's no use hurrying," Olga commented on this burst of speed,
"because you're going to wait for me. This is my night. We'll have a
little table all by ourselves at Max's and then you'll come up and sleep
with me to-night."
An instinct prompted Rose to defer the necessary negative to this
suggestion until the last of the other girls, who was just then pinning
on her hat, should have gone. When the door clicked, she said she was
sorry but the plan couldn't be carried out.
Olga looked at her intensely. "I need you to-night," she said, "and if
you care anything about me at all you'll come."
"I'd come if I could," said Rose, "but it can't be managed. I've
promised to do something else."
Olga's face paled a little and her eyes burned. "So that's it, is it?"
she said furiously. "You're going out with Galbraith." She went on to
say more than that, but her meaning was plain at the first words.
Rose looked at her a little incredulous, quite cool, so far as her mind
went (because, of course, Olga's accusation was merely grotesque) but
curiously and most unpleasantly stirred, disgusted almost to the point
of nausea.
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