I've never even seen it yet." She vouchsafed some slight show of curiosity.
"Where is this shanty, as you call it ?" she asked him.
"I really haven't the faintest idea," he replied.

"I am looking for it now.

All I can tell you is that it stands just out of reach of the full tides, on a piece of rock, dead on the beach and about a mile from the station.

It was built originally for a coastguard station and meant to hold a lifeboat, but they found they could never launch the lifeboat when they had it, so the man to whom all the foreshore and most of the land around here belongs--a Mr.Fentolin, I believe--sold it to my father.

I expect the place has tumbled to pieces by this time, but I thought I'd have a look at it." She was gazing at him steadfastly now, with parted lips.
"What is your name ?" she demanded.
"Richard Hamel." "Hamel." She repeated it lingeringly.