"It may be quite a pull. The tide is running out and that means you will have to row against it."
"Show me the boat."
Still she hesitated.
"I don't know how nautical you are."
She thought she heard him chuckle.
Leading the way to the yellow dory, she took her place opposite him and he pushed off.
As they sat facing one another, her eyes roamed over his brown suit; his matching tie, handkerchief and socks; his immaculate linen; his general air of careful grooming, and she could not but admit he wore his clothes well. She was so accustomed to seeing him that she never before had stopped to analyze his appearance. Now after weeks of separation she regarded him from a fresh viewpoint and realized with something of a shock how very good-looking he was.
He had the appearance of being scrubbed inside and out—of being not only clean but wholesome and upstanding; of knowing what he wanted and going after it.
He was not a small town product.
Three years in an eastern preparatory school, followed by four years of college life had knocked all that might have been provincial out of Horatio Junior.