Then the blind whirled up and a merry face, in a cloud of dishevelled hair, looked out, a pair of horrified eyes rested momentarily on Graeme, and the blind rattled down again with something that sounded like a muffled feminine objurgation.

And presently the inner door opened and Miss Penny came forth demurely, and bowed distantly in the direction of Margaret and Graeme.

She was of average height but inclined to plumpness, and so looked smaller than Margaret; and she had no great pretensions to beauty, Graeme thought—­but then he was biassed for life and incapable of free and impartial judgment—­save such as might be found in a very frank face given to much laughter, a rather wide mouth and nice white teeth, abundant dark hair and a pair of challenging brown eyes which now, getting over their first confusion—­and finding herself at all events fully dressed, wherein she had the advantage of him—­rested with much appreciation on the young man in front of her.

The salt water was still in his hair, and the discrepancies in his hasty attire were but partly hidden by the damp towel round his neck.  Nevertheless he was very good to look upon.  His moustache showed crisp against the healthy brown of his face; his hair, short as it was, had a natural ripple which sea-water could not reduce; and his eyes were brimming with the new joy of life and repressed laughter.  Miss Penny liked the looks of him.

“Margaret Brandt, I will never forgive you as long as I live,” said she emphatically.

“All right, dear!  This is Mr. Bogey-man whose rooms we have appropriated.  He wished to be introduced to the other malefactor.  Miss Henrietta Penny—­Mr. John Graeme!  Mr. Graeme and I have met before.”

If Mr. John Graeme had had more experience of women, the flash that shot across from the brown eyes to the dark blue ones might have told him stories—­for instance, that his name and would-have-been standing towards her friend were not entirely unknown to Miss Penny; that, for a brief half second, she wondered—­doubted—­and instantly chid herself for such a thought in connection with Margaret Brandt.

But Margaret herself, being a woman, caught the momentary challenge and repelled it steadily.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Penny—­in such a place, and in such company.  I have heard of you from Miss Brandt,” said Graeme.

“Never till five minutes ago,” laughed Margaret.

“Yes, if you will pardon me—­once before, at Lady Elspeth Gordon’s.  Unless I am mistaken, Miss Penny had just been across to Dublin to take a degree which Cambridge ungallantly declined to confer upon her.”

“Quite right!” said Miss Penny.  “M.A.  They’re misogynists at Cambridge.”

“Will you oblige me by informing Miss Penny, Mr. Graeme, that this meeting is purely accidental?  I caught a spark in her eye and I know what it means.  Had you the very slightest idea that we were coming to Sark?”