He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He measured his words carefully, wanting neither to offend nor to sound like some painfully elitist hipster. In the end there was nothing for it. "I liked your older material," he said. "I was a little young for it, but..." He trailed off, following Steven's gaze. "What do you imagine that is?" He took a few steps closer to the shoreline, his black head tipping to one side. "It looks like a damn steamer trunk."