Okay, that was a relief. It still didn't answer just why she lived in a resort, but he didn't have time to ask; the moment he opened his mouth, she suddenly had her arms on his shoulders and was profusely apologizing for what? His house — his house? — burning down?
"No, no," he said weakly, having gone stiff from the sudden contact. "I have a perfectly nice house in London. It's painted a nice grey and I've my own room, even," he continued, trying to reassure her that he was, in fact, not homeless.
"I only meant that it's peculiar to hear of someone living in a resort. Do your parents work there?" he asked. He pulled away and, motioning to her mouth, handed her a handkerchief.
"No, no," he said weakly, having gone stiff from the sudden contact. "I have a perfectly nice house in London. It's painted a nice grey and I've my own room, even," he continued, trying to reassure her that he was, in fact, not homeless.
"I only meant that it's peculiar to hear of someone living in a resort. Do your parents work there?" he asked. He pulled away and, motioning to her mouth, handed her a handkerchief.