Her knight of the forest stood before her.
The astonished MacGregor, having waited a decent interval for some rational clew to the situation, recalled his own existence by the simple expedient of folding the screen.
"Step inside, won't you?" he invited with a dry grin. "You may take cold at the window."
Atwood turned an illumined face.
"It's been years since we met," he explained. "I was not sure at first—the costume, the place."
MacGregor's eye lingered upon him in humorous meditation.
"Perhaps you'll see your way in time to introduce me," he suggested. "This has been a business session, so far. We hadn't come to names."