The Doctor had long since gotten used to new faces. She was good with new faces, maybe not so much when they were her own, though. But just because she was good with new faces didn't always mean she was good with other things. Like walking, for instance. Especially walking with an arm full of notes, books, and whatever else was in her arms. So when she walked into the coffee shop, pressing the door open with her back and headed towards her usual table to meet with Tony Stark about another new theory, she accidentally bumped into the table of another new face and almost dropped her book on the woman's foot. Luckily, it missed.
"Oh! Sorry!" She made a face and tried to crouch down and pick up the text, only to lose her papers in the process. She frowned, staring at them for a moment, looking put out but quickly gathering them again. "Really, these tables are movin' every day- guess that's the nature of furniture. Sometimes. To move, I mean."
Of course, she didn't recognize Marguerite at first. New woman. Right. The Doctor stood, papers still scattered and held out her hand. "Hullo! I'm the Doctor. Who're you?" She wasn't trying to be rude, but she could be very direct at times.