There's a dozen chaps waiting down-stairs to see you.

We'll leave it to your judgment just what you want to say to the Press.

Ring the bell and have the waiter bring their cards up." They departed and Maraton returned to his sitting-room.

He stood for a moment looking out over the city, the roar of which came to him clearly enough through the open window.

He forgot the depressing tawdriness of his surroundings in the exhilaration of the sound.