She held out her hand, but Peters, by long prac tise wary of women, had burdened himself with breakfast plates which prevented his clasping it He muttered "How d ye do?" and fled toward the door, narrowly averting what would have proved a serious collision with the large woman on the way.
"Mr. Peters meets so few of your sex in win ter," Magee apologized, "you must pardon his clumsiness. This gentleman"—he indicated the professor, who arose—"is Thaddeus Bolton, a distinguished member of a certain university fac ulty, who has fled to Baldpate to escape the press of America. And this is Mr. Bland, who hides here from the world the scars of a broken heart But let us not go into details."
The girl smiled brightly. "And you—" she asked.
"William Hallo well Magee," he returned, bow ing low. "I have a neat little collection of stories accounting for my presence here, from which I shall allow you to choose later. Not to mention the real one, which is simple almost to a fault."
"I am so happy to meet you all," said the girl.
