Presently the man stopped playing on his unmelodious instrument and, looking over his spectacles across the room towards the door, saw Paul. He immediately took off his glasses, and his eyes were blue and keen and kind.
Paul scrambled to his feet. "How d'you do?" he said politely. "I just called in as I was passing."
The man looked rather astonished. "Where were you going?" he asked.
Paul came slowly across the room until he stood close by the big desk. "Nowhere in particular. We've just come out for the day."
"We!" the man repeated. "Are there any more of you?" And he looked rather anxious.
"Only Thor," Paul answered reassuringly. "He's sitting in the little room with the basin—I hope you don't mind. We both drank some water, but we didn't wash—not without leave. May Thor come in?"
"He'd better, I think," said the man.
"You may come in, my dear," Paul said, quietly, without raising his voice, and Thor, large, deliberate, and graceful, strolled into the room, looked inquiringly at the man, wagged his tail gently, and came and stood by his master.
"This is Thor," said Paul. "Do you mind him?"
"Not a bit!" said the man. "I like him."