My heart went into my boots, and my first impulse was to apologize and clear out.
But I told myself I must see it through, even though I was to be the laughing-stock of Britain.

The light from the dinner-table candlesticks was not very good, and to cover my confusion I got up, walked to the door and switched on the electric light.

The sudden glare made them blink, and I stood scanning the three faces.
Well, I made nothing of it.

One was old and bald, one was stout, one was dark and thin.

There was nothing in their appearance to prevent them being the three who had hunted me in Scotland, but there was nothing to identify them.