I had some dry--er--things in my valise and I--well, then you came, you see, and--I assure you I--well, it was the most embarrassing--I'm coming now." The door opened.

The two in the sitting room huddled close together, Keziah holding the broom like a battle-ax, ready for whatsoever might develop.

From the dimness of the tightly shuttered study stepped the owner of the voice, a stranger, a young man, his hair rumpled, his tie disarranged, and the buttons of his waistcoat filling the wrong buttonholes.

Despite this evidence of a hasty toilet in semidarkness, he was not unprepossessing.

Incidentally, he was blushing furiously.
"I'm--I'm sure I beg your pardon, ladies," he stammered.