He could not tell him all there was to tell, he was taking another means of letting him know.
Charley did not speak.

Hunger was a new sensation, a delicious thing, too good to be broken by talking.

He ate till he had cleared away the last crumbs of bread and meat and drunk the last drop of soup.

He looked at the woodsman as though wondering if he would bring more.

Jo evidently thought he had had enough, for he did not move.