She raised her head to see a man swimming; her eyes were fascinated by the whiteness of the man's flesh. After a while, he returned, to pass and repass her two or three times. Then, to her consternation, he approached the bank near to where she lay. She sat up; a few moments later, the man's head and shoulders appeared among the grasses upon the river bank.
"Good morning," said the man.
Mavis took no notice, but called to Jill.
"Good morning," repeated the man, who was young and pleasant-looking.
Mavis did not reply.
"Would little Mavis mind moving a little further up the bank?" continued the man.
Mavis looked at him in astonished anger.
"Because I can't get to my clothes until you do."
Mavis got up, called to Jill, and turned her back on the nook, wondering how on earth the man could have known her name; also, why he had the impertinence to address her so familiarly.
She did not get very far, because, call as she might to Jill, the spoiled dog took no notice of her summons, but remained about the place that her mistress had left.