“Catarina! What are you doing here?” The voice gradually brought her back to the present. She saw the kind eyes and straight nose, tight curly hair, expressive mouth. She ran into the tall man. “It is late, Signorina.”
She suddenly was aware that she did not know where she was. She looked about her seeing many boats and wooden docks. She gasped a little as he caught her. The friendly jovial eyes met hers. “Luigi! Ciau. I’m so sorry! I did not mean to…”
The seasoned fisherman clicked his tongue and hugged her. “No, no. No harm done.”
“How is your famigghia?” She asked.
“My family is very well. We have missed the visits of the multa signorina.” Luigi scratched his dark graying head. His eyes concerned.
About them many fishermen were mending nets and inspecting cages. It seemed this night was busy among the fisher folk, despite the weather. Talk was being flung about, though not as rapidly as in the day.
The “fine lady” bent her head. A couple of tears streaming down her cheeks. Luigi lifted her chin and with his thumbs wiped away the tears. He surveyed her. Damp almost curly hair that was pulled back messily. A simple white blouse with lacy embroidery. The sleeves were long and flitted out gently in a bell with the breeze. She wore a tan and rust plaid skirt and the shoes, with heels, that were tied with small laces and went only just above her ankles. She looked nice, though not the usually well done wardrobe. It looked simpler somehow; all slightly damp and a little askew. She was carrying a satchel and a coat.
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