He would have helped her pick up her flowers had he realized it in time, but by the time he had she had them all together. "Ah" he said with a slight grin on his lips. "I am very pleased to hear it is not your or I. You are a novelist?" Antony adored creative women, he thought they put so much more heart and soul into their work than their male counterparts. He always felt so inadequate when compared to many of the female painters he had come across. "I don't really read novels much any more, I have been so busy lately, or else I would ask if you've written anything I could have come across. So instead I must ask if you have written anything I may have heard of?"
Taking a moment to look out over the water, he then looked back to her very lovely face. "My name is Antony, and I'm sorry if I startled you, but I thought you were lovely and someone so lovely shouldn't be left to sit alone."