beyond the murky horizon, the sun, which here in the narrow street
seemed to have drawn all life from the air, was shining on yellow
cornfields bending before the west wind. Here there was simply an
intolerable heat, a smell of fish and a smell of cloth.

Aaron Thurnbrein crossed the street, entered the unimposing doorway and
knocked at the door which led into the busy but unassuming offices. A
small boy threw open a little glass window and looked at him doubtfully.

"I don't know that you can see Miss Thurnbrein even for a minute," he
declared, in answer to Aaron's confident enquiry. "It's our busiest
time. What do you want?"

"I am her brother," Aaron announced. "It is most important."

The boy slipped from a worn stool and disappeared. Presently the door
of the little waiting-room was suddenly opened, and a girl entered.

"Aaron!" she exclaimed. "Has anything happened?"

Once more he raised his head, once more the light that flickered in his
face transformed him into some semblance of a virile man.

"Maraton is here! Maraton has arrived!"

The light flashed, too, for a moment in her face, only she, even before
it came, was beautiful.

"At last!" she cried. "At last! Have you seen him, Aaron? Tell me
quickly, what is he like?"