I helped him to the boat, and he climbed in. I trod water, clinging with one hand to the stern.
“Allow me,” he said, bending down.
“No, thank you,” I replied.
“Not, really?”
“Thank you very much, but I think I will stay where I am.”
“But you may get cramp. By the way—I’m really frightfully obliged to you for saving my life—I mean, a perfect stranger—I’m afraid it’s quite spoiled your dip.”
“Not at all,” I said politely. “Did you get cramp?”
“A twinge. It was awfully kind of you.”
“Not at all.”
Then there was a rather awkward silence.