"Permit me to sit it out with you then," he said, and he turned toward me as if expecting me to give way.
I did not budge, of course, but stared out in front of me as if I had not seen his look.
"I am sorry, but—a friend has—has brought me some important—news, and it has distressed me—and I wish to continue the conversation."
It was as clumsy an excuse as any child in her teens could have mumbled out, and given in a manner altogether unlike her own. But fortunately the man took umbrage at the obvious slight, and with a stiff bow went off.
I had won again.
"Now you can tell me all you know."
"Wait a moment. Let me be quiet, or I shall faint."
She was now trembling violently, and I sat waiting until she should have recovered her self-composure sufficiently to tell me the news I was burning to learn.