The door was opened without any delay by a man servant in sombre, every-day clothes.
"We wish to see Mr.Maraton," Julia announced.

"He is not up yet, of course, but might we come in and wait ?" "Mr.Maraton is in his study, madam," the man answered.
He disappeared and beckoned them, a moment or so later, to follow him.
They were shown into a much smaller apartment at the rear of the house.
Maraton was sitting before a desk covered with papers, with a breakfast tray by his side.

He looked up at their entrance, but his face was inexpressive.

He did not even smile.

The sunlight died out of Julia's face, and her heart sank.
"I am sorry," she began haltingly.