“No,” she said confusedly, “you didn't frighten me. I was a little startled when I saw you there behind me. It seemed so odd, because I was just thinking—No, I wasn't frightened. What is there to be frightened of—in Trumet?”
He had extended his hand, but partially withdrew it, not sure how even such a perfunctory act of friendliness might be received. She saved him embarrassment by frankly offering her own.
“Not much, that's a fact,” he said, in answer to her question. He would have liked to ask what she had been thinking that made his sudden appearance seem so odd.
“You came to see the sunset, I suppose?” she said hurriedly, as if to head off a question. “So did I. It is a beautiful evening for a walk, isn't it?”
She had said precisely the same thing on that other evening, when they stood in the middle of “Hammond's Turn-off” in the driving rain. He remembered it, and so, evidently, did she, for she colored slightly and smiled.
“I mean it this time,” she said. “I'm glad you didn't get cold from your wetting the other day.”
“Oh! I wasn't very wet. You wouldn't let me lend you the umbrella, so I had that to protect me on the way home.”
“Not then; I meant the other morning when Nat—Cap'n Hammond—met you out on the flats. He said you were wading the main channel and it was over your boots.”
“Over my boots! Is that all he said? Over my head would be the plain truth. To cross it I should have had to swim and, if what I've heard since is true, I doubt if I could swim that channel. Captain Hammond helped me out of a bad scrape.”
“Oh, no! I guess not. He said you were cruising without a pilot and he towed you into port; that's the way he expressed it.”