Anyway, it is not at all the sort of thing that you expect to meet in a top-floor front in Bloomsbury, looking as though it would like to know what business YOU had there.
So everyone said, 'Oh!' rather loud, and their boots clattered as they stumbled back.
The learned gentleman took the glass out of his eye and said--'I beg your pardon,' in a very soft, quiet pleasant voice--the voice of a gentleman who has been to Oxford.
'It's us that beg yours,' said Cyril politely.

'We are sorry to disturb you.' 'Come in,' said the gentleman, rising--with the most distinguished courtesy, Anthea told herself.

'I am delighted to see you.

Won't you sit down?
No, not there; allow me to move that papyrus.' He cleared a chair, and stood smiling and looking kindly through his large, round spectacles.
'He treats us like grown-ups,' whispered Robert, 'and he doesn't seem to know how many of us there are.' 'Hush,' said Anthea, 'it isn't manners to whisper.

You say, Cyril--go ahead.' 'We're very sorry to disturb you,' said Cyril politely, 'but we did knock three times, and you didn't say "Come in", or "Run away now", or that you couldn't be bothered just now, or to come when you weren't so busy, or any of the things people do say when you knock at doors, so we opened it.