The other things are but trifles." She looked back at him from the corner of the Square, a straight, impassive figure in a little halo of soft light.

There was a catch in her heart.

Her companion's words were surely spoken in some foreign tongue.
"We have got to have this out, Julia," he was saying.

"If anybody or anything has come between us, there's going to be trouble.

If that's the great Maraton, with his swagger evening clothes and big house, well, he's not the man for our job, and I shan't mind being the first to tell him so." She glanced at him, for a moment, almost in wonder.