The house door was standing open, and he went out beyond the porch, and stood where the monkshood rose at the corner of the garden bed.

From this point he could see the stranger through the open window, still and dim, sitting head on hand.

He had not moved.
A number of children going along the road stopped and regarded the artist curiously.

A boatman exchanged civilities with him.

He felt that possibly his circumspect attitude and position looked peculiar and unaccountable.
Smoking, perhaps, might seem more natural.