[The look on Henry's face suggests that there ought to be blue smoke coming out of his ears. (If, that is, that were a valid analogy for anyone present on the beach at the moment, which it's actually not.) It's certainly not that he's never seen a nude woman before, or that he objects to the sight. He just, quite simply, a man of his time, and there are things that one simply doesn't do, paintings by Manet notwithstanding. It's completely shocking. And rather exciting. And entirely unexpected, and not a little confusing.
When he (finally) speaks (after what feels to him like half an eternity), his voice sounds oddly and unusually strangled at first, before he clears his throat and almost sounds like his usual self.]
Well then, my dear—[cough] do not feel compelled to wait on me. I have no Hellenic robes that I can slip out of so easily.
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When he (finally) speaks (after what feels to him like half an eternity), his voice sounds oddly and unusually strangled at first, before he clears his throat and almost sounds like his usual self.]
Well then, my dear—[cough] do not feel compelled to wait on me. I have no Hellenic robes that I can slip out of so easily.