Not a sound, other than the rustling of leaves, broke the silence.

My companion appeared disinclined to talk, her eyes turned away from me.

The constraint became so marked I endeavored to start conversation, but with poor result.
"Our meeting has been an odd one," I began, "romantic enough to form a basis for fiction." Her glance shifted to my face.
"Do you think so?
I merely find it extremely embarrassing." "Then I will withdraw at once," I insisted, hurt by the indifference of her voice.

"I had supposed you wished me to remain until now--surely your words implied this." "Oh, yes! I did, and you are in no way to blame.

It was an impulse, and I failed to realize that it would involve deceit to an old friend.
Perhaps I am too easily hurt, but I am afraid Judge Moran half suspects the truth.