It occurred late in July, just before sunset. He had placed his rod, lighted his pipe, and seated himself on the platform's edge, when, all of a sudden, and without any apparent reason, a dizzy sort of recklessness seized him, and he got up and walked over to her window.
"Good evening," he said.
"Good evening," she said in a low voice.
"I was wondering," he went on, scared almost to death, "whether you would mind if I spoke to you?"
After a few seconds she said:
"Well? Have you decided?"
Badly frightened, he managed to find voice enough to express his continued uncertainty.
"Why did you care to speak to me?" she asked.
"I—we—you——" and he stuck fast.