She wore a coat and skirt of dark green Harris Tweed with leather collar and cuffs, and a simple sailor hat.
Megbie, who had never met Miss Poole in the country, but only knew her in London and during the season, had never seen her dressed like this before. He had always admired her beauty, the admirable poise of her manner, the evidences of intellectuality she gave.
At the moment of her entry the journalist thought her more beautiful than ever, dressed as if for covert-side or purple-painted moor. And his quick brain realized in a moment that she was dressed thus in an unconscious attempt to escape observation, to be incognito, as it were.
But why had she come to see him? She was in trouble, her face showed that—it was extraordinary, altogether unprecedented.
Megbie showed nothing of the thoughts which were animating him, either in his face or manner. He shook hands as if he had just met Miss Poole in Bond Street.
"Do sit down," he said, "I think you'll find that chair a comfortable one."
Marjorie sat down. "Of course, Mr. Megbie," she said, "you will think it very strange that I should come here alone; when I tell you why, you will think it stranger still. And I don't want any one to know that I have been here. I shall tell mother, of course, when I get back."
Megbie bowed and said nothing. It was the most tactful thing to do.
"I feel you will not misunderstand my motives," the girl went on, "when I explain myself. In certain cases, and among certain persons, conventions are bourgeois. We don't know each other very well, Mr. Megbie, though we have sometimes had some interesting talks together. But in a sense I know you better than you know me. You see, I have read your books and other writings. In common with the rest of the world I can gather something of your temper of mind, and of your outlook upon life."
Megbie once more inclined his head. He wondered furiously what all this might mean. At the moment he was absolutely in the dark. He stretched out his hand towards a tin of cigarettes that stood on a bracket by the side of the fireplace, and then withdrew it suddenly, remembering who was present.