His face was thin and he walked with a slight stoop.
Something about his clothes and his manner of wearing them stamped him as an American.

Tavernake glanced at his companion, wondering whether this, perhaps, might not be the person for whom she was watching.

His first glance was careless enough, then he felt his heart thump against his ribs.

A tragedy had come into the room! The woman at his side sat as though turned to stone.

There was a look in her face as of one who sees Death.