Annis stood aside as he rose, and followed him slowly to the hall.
“I wish we had an umbrella to lend you,” she said, looking round.
“Oh, that’ll be all right,” said the skipper. “I’m nearly dry now.”
“Dry?” said Annis. She put her little hand on his coat-sleeve.
“Oh, you’re soaking,” she said in dismay. “The idea of me letting you sit about in that state!”
“That sleeve is the worst,” said the skipper, whom circumstances had made artful. “It’s all right here.”
He brushed his hand down his coat.
“That’s a good thing,” said Annis politely.
“Um, but not here,” said the skipper, squeezing the lapel of his coat.
Annis touched his coat lightly.