"Will you go to the Clarion?
Shall you speak ?" Maraton shook his head.
"No.

I have written to the men whom I am anxious to meet here, and asked them to come to me.

I should prefer not to speak at all until I go to Manchester.

I have plans, but I must not speak of them for the moment." "I had hoped so to hear you speak to-night," she murmured, and her face fell.
They stood together at the door and looked out across the green tree-tops towards the city.
"The time has gone by for speeches," he said quietly.

"Perhaps before very long you may hear greater things than words." They hurried off--Julia to the factory, Aaron to a typewriting depot in New Oxford Street.