'You'd better get your clothes dried.' She stripped the blanket off the ironing board. 'Here you are,' she said, and tossed it over.
Take them off and wrap that round you.' And when I hesitated, she said, 'Don't worry about me. I'm used to half-naked men around. Wheal Garth's a pretty wet mine.'
As I stripped off my things and hung them on the clothes horse, I saw her looking at me several times curiously. I felt flattered. It was good to have a girl around again. But then she said, There's something strangely familiar about you.'
'How do you mean?' I asked, wrapping the blanket round me and slipping out of my wet trousers.
'I don't know,' she answered, with a puzzled frown. 'Almost is though I'd seen you before.'
'Ever been out of England?' I asked.
She shook her head and smiled. 'Never been out of Cornwall,' she said.
Then you can't have seen me before,' I told her, This is the first time I've been back in England since I was four.'
'Oh.' But the puzzled frown was still on her face. 'What's your name?' she asked.
'Jim,' I said. 'Jim Pr — ' I just stopped myself in time. 'Jim O'Donnel. I'm a Canadian.'