He can't help the way his eyes fasten on details, saved from obvious rudeness based solely on the merits of not being able to focus on one sole attribute. Broad strokes in outline: dark hair, a good height, though a little shorter than Joshua, well-formed limbs shown off to full advantage by clothing of classic make - not the latest fashion, but tried and true, a palette of grays and greens, blues and silvers, like the woods and sea. More delicate details, all subtly drawing the eye of an observer in careful succession: a flash of curiosity, a chilling world-weariness, the little imperfections of form and surface that, the careless assurance of privilege and long experience, somehow charming rather than arrogant, in a man who appeared not so far removed from Joshua's own age...

The startling question jolts Joshua into responding honestly, without prevarication, "I'm a strong swimmer." It's only after hearing the abruptness of his own tone that he adds, more tentatively, "Why do you ask?"