Sayer lifted her eyes to the horizon and nodded. "Mid-afternoon, perhaps," she agreed as she turned her gaze back to Henri. She did not return the grin with one of her own, however her lips quirked up. Just for a moment.

"I would not object to finding drinks," she commented. "There appears to be a home up the edge of the beach. If you would excuse the needs of an old woman."

Sayer looked neither old or frail as she lifted her cane in illustration. "You may call me Sayer, if you wish," she told him, but there was no fishing for his own name. Sayer assumed people would give them, or not, at their whim.