Part 10 (1/2)
She spoke to him first.
”Yes”; he said.
”You live up there?” She pointed a bare browned arm up toward the sun bleached chalk cliffs. ”By yourself?”
”Yes.”
”You ain't got a boat?”
”No.”
”They say you don't ever fish. Why don't you, Mister?”
”I--I ain't the one to fish.”
”Want to help me with these here nets?”
”I--I can't do--that.”
”It ain't hard, Mister.”
”I--can't--do--it.”
”Come on in; I'll show you how.”
He opened the gate and went into the yard and then he stood there just looking down at her.
”I wouldn't touch--no--net--”
Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown.
”You mean you don't like fis.h.i.+ng?”
Somehow he did not want her to know.
”I--ain't--the--one--to--take--no--sea-thing--away--from--the--sea.”
”Oh;” she said, not understanding.
They were silent a moment.
”You sell baskets?” She asked him.
”D'you want one?”
”Mebbe. Got a medium-sized one?”
”Got a lot.”
”Mebbe--I--could--use--one.”
”I'd like mighty well to--to give you one, little girl.”