"Not in the least; merely a little wet. Don't bother, Polly."
The men were staring as if at an apparition.
"Well, I'll be—"
Mr. Davidson left the sentence unfinished and resumed his incredulous scrutiny.
It was Reggy Williams's turn to make a rush; but, as in the case of Polly, Rosalind wafted him away with a motion of her hand.
"Please don't make a fuss," she said. "No damage has been done whatever—except to a window. I broke it to get in."
"But how? Where did you come from? What brought you—"
The chorus of voices brought a frown of annoyance to her brow.
"I was rowing when the squall came," she observed quietly. "This was the nearest place to land, so I came here. Apparently nobody was at home, so I had to force my way in in order to get out of the storm."
"We—we didn't know what had happened!" exclaimed Polly, her voice trembling. "We thought you might be—lost."