At first Reginald moved to assist the poor girl but quickly thought better of it. He held both hands up palms outward, and shifted slightly to lean back against the nearest countertop. It was only a little movement, just enough to clear the doorway he'd come through if she so chose to use it as an exit. He didn't know what was going on or why she was so angry, but he felt badly all the same. He'd have to try and fix this before anything else could be done.
"My apologies," he offered. "My name is Reginald Woodward, and I bear no ill intent whatsoever. It was not my wish to startle you. I just woke up in a room upstairs and the only telephones I can find don't appear to be working. I'm going to hazard a guess that you awoke to much the same. If that is the case I can assure you I had nothing to do with it." He kept his palms up, his body language relaxed. "I shall do as you say. Or I could leave, if that would make you more comfortable. Or of course, I could help you pick up your things."