He looked at her soberly, and her gaze fell, but in a moment she flashed a bright smile up at him. "Of course it doesn't matter, does it? What does matter is how I'm going to get ashore."
"I've been thinking about that. I don't see how it can be managed," he replied briefly.
"Isn't there a boat-house?"
"Yes, but—unfortunately—no boats."
"It's a very awkward predicament," she murmured.
"Not nearly so awkward as it might have been if there had been no one here," he said slowly. "At least you won't starve."
"You're very kind. Oh, I hope you won't think me ungrateful. I'm not, really. I'll not bother you."
He looked at her amusedly.
"Can you cook?"
"No," she admitted, "but I'd like to try."