d to fight
Capital, fight it tooth and nail."

"I suppose it's all right," Julia said. "It seems different, somehow,
from what we had expected, and he never goes to the Clarion at all."

"Why should he?" Aaron demanded. "They are all jealous of him, every
one of 'em; Peter Dale is the worst of the lot. Didn't you hear how
they talked to him at Manchester?"

She nodded, and for a time they went on with their work. She found
herself, however, continually returning to the subject of those vital
differences; the Maraton as they had dreamed of him--the prophet with
the flaming sword, and this wonderfully civilised person.

"Tell me honestly, Aaron," she asked presently, "what do you think of it
all?--of him--of his methods? You are with him all the time. Haven't
you ever any doubts?"

She watched him closely. She would have been conscious of the slightest
tremor in his reply, the slightest hesitation. There was nothing of the
sort. He was merely tolerant of her ignorance.

"No one who knows Maraton," he pronounced, "could fail to trust him."

After that she asked no more questions. They worked steadily for
another half hour or so. Messages were sometimes brought in to Aaron,
which he summarily disposed of. Julia wondered at the new facility, the
heart-whole eagerness which he devoted to every trifling matter.
Then, just as she was halfway through copying out a pile of figures,
Maraton came in. He stood and watched them in the doorway, half amused,
half surprised. For a moment she kept her head down. Then she looked
up slowly.

"Since when," he asked, "have I been the proud possessor of two
secretaries?"

"You left me letters enough for four, sir," Aaron reminded him. "I
wanted to finish them all, so Julia stayed to help me."

Maraton came smiling towards them.

"Why, I am afraid I forgot," he said. "In America I used sometimes to
have four typists working. You can't possibly get out all those details
by yourself, Aaron."

"We shall have finished this lot, anyhow, in an hour."

"You must get permanent help," Maraton insisted. "Leave off now, both
of you. I want to talk to your sister. Do you know," he went on,
turning towards her, "that I have scarcely seen anything of you since
Manchester?"

"My work keeps me rather a prisoner," she explained, "and after these
hot days one hasn't much energy left."

"You are still working at the tailoring?"

She nodded.

"I like to be in the midst of it all, but this w