of the groups, shouting and gesticulating, surged toward him and made an
appeal through their interpreter. He did not appear to be listening;
without so much as lowering his newspaper he spoke a few words in reply,
and the group retired, satisfied. By some incomprehensible power he
dominated. Panting, fascinated, loath to leave yet fearful, Janet watched
him, breathing now deeply this atmosphere of smoke, of strife, and
turmoil. She found it grateful, for the strike, the battle was in her own
soul as well. Momentarily she had forgotten Rolfe, who had been in her
mind as she had come hither, and then she caught sight of him in a group
in the centre of the hall. He saw her, he was making his way toward her,
he was holding her hands, looking down into her face with that air of
appropriation, of possession she remembered. But she felt no resentment
now, only a fierce exultation at having dared.

"You've come to join us!" he exclaimed. "I thought I'd lost you."

He bent closer to her that she might hear.

"We are having a meeting of the Committee," he said, and she smiled.
Despite her agitation, this struck her as humorous. And Rolfe smiled back
at her. "You wouldn't think so, but Antonelli knows how to manage them.
He is a general. Come, I will enlist you, you shall be my recruit."

"But what can I do?" she asked.

"I have been thinking. You said you were a stenographer--we need
stenographers, clerks. You will not be wasted. Come in here."

Behind her two box-like rooms occupying the width of the building had
been turned into offices, and into one of these Rolfe led her. Men and