"There was a great deal," she assured him. "I think I have collected all the possible information you can need on the steel works of Sheffield."
"Haven't been overworking, I hope?"
She laughed at him softly. Her parted lips seemed somehow to lighten her face.
"This doesn't quite compare with nine hours a day over a sewing machine, with a hundred other girls packed into a small room," she reminded him. "No, I haven't been overworking. I almost wished, an hour ago, that I could find something more to do."
"Why didn't you go out?"
"To-morrow night is Guild night," she said. "I go out then to talk to my girls. Miss Stevens is coming from the Lyceum Club to lecture to us on Woman's Suffrage."
"Do you want a vote?" he asked.
"If it comes,"' she replied. "It isn't worth worrying about. I like my girls, though, to be taught to think."
There was a brief silence. Maraton was still examining the letters laid out for his inspection. Julia was standing by his side. As the last one slipped through his fingers, he turned quickly towards her, oppressed by some mysterious significance in her silence. Her eyes were luminous. She seemed to be trembling. She avoided his enquiring glance.
"Julia!" he exclaimed.