He had been behind the scenes in more than one European crisis, and that which goes on behind the scenes is not always edifying or conducive to a squeamishness of touch.

He was not the man to be mawkishly afraid of soiling his fingers.

But the small white hand rather disconcerted him.
He took it, however, in his great, warm, soft grasp, held it for a moment, and relinquished it.
"I don't want you to address all your conversation to Maggie, and to ignore me.

Do you think Maggie so very pretty ?" There was a twist beneath the gray mustache as he answered, "Is that all the friendship you desire?
Does it extend no farther than a passing wish to be first in petty rivalries of daily existence?
I am afraid, my dear princess, that my friendship is a heavier matter--a clumsier thing than that." "A big thing not easily moved," she suggested, looking up with her dauntless smile.
He shrugged his great shoulders.
"It may be--who knows?
I hope it is," he answered.
"The worst of those big things is that they are sometimes in the way," said Etta reflectively, without looking at him.
"And yet the life that is only a conglomeration of trifles is a poor life to look back upon." "Meaning mine ?" she asked.
"Your life has not been trifling," he said gravely.
She looked up at him, and then for some moments kept silence while she idly opened and shut her fan.

There was in the immediate vicinity of Karl Steinmetz a sort of atmosphere of sympathy which had the effect of compelling confidence.