He shook with a formless, uncertain dread; a dozen times he would have turned back had not Marcus been with him.

The stolid giant was as nervous as a schoolboy.

He fancied that his call upon Miss Sieppe was an outrageous affront.

She would freeze him with a stare; he would be shown the door, would be ejected, disgraced.
As they got off the local train at B Street station they suddenly collided with the whole tribe of Sieppes--the mother, father, three children, and Trina--equipped for one of their eternal picnics.

They were to go to Schuetzen Park, within walking distance of the station.
They were grouped about four lunch baskets.