But to fight death--" Violet made a curious little gesture of the hands--"it seems to me like tilting at a windmill," she said.

"Everyone must die sooner or later." "But no one wants to go before his time," observed a cool voice behind them.

"Or if he does, he's a shirker and deserves to be kicked." Both girls started as Max strolled carelessly up, hands in pockets, and propped himself against a tree close by.
His eyes travelled over Olga's face as he did so.

"You've been overheated," he remarked.
She pulled her hat forward with a nervous jerk.

"Who can help it this weather ?" He grunted disapproval.