then as we moved into the channel I gained courage, and found
myself pointing out the Statue of Liberty, Governors Island, and
the Brooklyn Bridge. The fact that it was a stranger who was
talking did not seem to disturb her. I cannot tell how she
conveyed the idea, but I soon felt that she felt, no matter what
unconventional thing she chose to do, people would not be rude, or
misunderstand.

I considered telling her my name. At first it seemed that that
would be more polite. Then I saw to do so would be forcing myself
upon her, that she was interested in me only as a guide to New York
Harbor.

When we passed the Brooklyn Navy Yard I talked so much and so
eagerly of the battle-ships at anchor there that the lady must have
thought I had followed the sea, for she asked: "Are you a
sailorman?"

It was the first question that was in any way personal.

"I used to sail a catboat," I said.

My answer seemed to puzzle her, and she frowned. Then she laughed
delightedly, like one having made a discovery.

"You don't say 'sailorman,'" she said. "What do you ask, over
here, when you want to know if a man is in the navy?"

She spoke as though we were talking a different language.