She stammered something to the man who had held her and then let her go.She was confused, hot and angry."They'll think me an idiot who can't enter a room properly." She glared about her and felt as though she had been taken prisoner by some strange people who lived under the sea.She was aware, when her eyes were accustomed to the dim light, that the entrance of herself and her aunt had interrupted the conversation of three people.Near the fireplace sat a little woman wearing black mittens and a white lace cap; standing above her with his arm on the mantelpiece was a thin, battered-looking gentleman with large spectacles, high, gaunt features and a very thin head of hair; near the door was the man against whom Maggie had collided.She saw that he was young, thick-set and restless.She noticed even then his eyes, bright and laughing as though he were immensely amused.His mouth opened and closed again, his eyes were never still, and he made fierce dumb protests with his body, jerking it forward pulling it back, as a rider strives to restrain an unruly horse.Maggie was able to notice these things, because during the first moments her Aunt Anne entirely held the stage.She advanced to the fireplace with her halting movement, embraced the little lady by the fire with a soft and unimpassioned clasp.
"Well, Elizabeth, here we are, you see," turned to the thin gentleman saying, "Why you, Mr.Magnus! I thought that you were still in Wiltshire! "then from the middle of the room addressing the stout young man: "I'm very glad to see you, Mr.Warlock."Maggie fancied that the three persons were nervous of her aunt; the stout young man was amused perhaps at the general situation, but Mr.