She opened a door on the right, and, accepting her invitation, Colin passed through into a long, cheerless apartment, three sides of which were almost completely lined with books. There was no fire in the grate, and such chairs as there were looked so extremely uncomfortable that only the most hardened man of letters could have described it as an agreeable resort.
Colin did not attempt to sit down. After a cursory glance round he walked over to the nearest bookcase and began to examine the titles of some of the volumes, all of which appeared to deal with scientific subjects, a fair proportion of them being in French and German. He was deep in this occupation when he heard the door open, and, wheeling round quickly, he found the Professor coming toward him.
Like every other young investigator, Colin was more or less familiar with photographs of his host, but all the same the latter's appearance in real life came to him with something of a shock. A very old man, wearing a skull cap, from which long white hair hung down over his collar, he seemed at first sight to be almost pitifully frail and feeble. It was only when a second glance revealed the gleam which still lurked behind his gold spectacles and the dour, obstinate lines of his mouth and chin that this sense of physical weakness was swept away by a sudden impression of extraordinary intellectual power and immense force of character.
With a little exclamation of annoyance he advanced to where Colin was standing.
"I am sorry that you should have been left alone in this ice house," he began in a high, quavering voice. "I can't imagine why Mrs. Ramsay showed you in here, except that she happens to be a born fool."
Colin accepted the thin, veined hand which the old scientist offered him.
"I have been quite happy, thank you, sir," he said. "I have been inspecting your library."
"I trust that you found something to entertain you," was the answer. "There are some interesting books here, but, unfortunately, they are mixed up with a good deal of trash. Every ignoramus who airs his views on some subject about which he knows nothing seems to think it necessary to send me a copy." He turned toward the entrance. "You had better come into my study," he added. "There is a nice fire there, and we can talk in comfort."
Leading the way to the door, he conducted Colin across the hall into another and almost similarly shaped room exactly opposite. Here also the walls were lined with bookcases, but, thanks to the fire and one or two easy chairs, there was a certain air of homeliness altogether lacking in the library.
The Professor made a gesture towards a dilapidated couch.