She found herself watching him with some curiosity.

It had never occurred to her to doubt at first but that he was some fisherman from the village, for he wore a rough jersey and a pair of trousers tucked into sea-boots.

His face was bronzed, and his hands were large and brown.

Nevertheless she saw that his features were good, and his voice, though he spoke the dialect of the country, had about it some quality which she was not slow to recognize.
"Who are you ?" she asked, a little curiously.

"Do you live in the village ?" He looked down at her with a faint smile.
"I live in the village," he answered, "and my name is Andrew." "Are you a fisherman ?" she asked.
"Certainly," he answered gravely.