We--" She got no further.

Up the walk, from the road, came running an apoplectically red and puffing man of late middle age;--a man whose face bore traces of lather; and who was swathed in a purple bathrobe.
Flapping slippers ill-covered his sockless feet.
The Master recognized the fast-advancing newcomer.

He recognized him from many pictures in newspapers and magazines.
This was Rutherford Garretse, world-famed author and collector; the literary lion and chief celebrity of the summer colony at Daylight Park.

But what eccentricity of genius could account for his costume and for this bellicose method of bearing down upon a neighbor's home, was more than the Master could guess.
Nor did the visitor's first words clear up the mystery.

Halting at the foot of the steps, Rutherford Garretse gesticulated in dumb anguish, while he fought for breath and for coherent speech.