He didn't, and they seated themselves. In the charm of this intimate seclusion Lucy became more than ever dumb. Mrs. Tailleur waited a few minutes in apparent meditation.
All Lucy said was "May I smoke?"
"You may." She meditated again.
"I was wondering," said she, "whether you were ever going to say anything."
"I didn't know," said Lucy simply, "whether I might. I thought you were thinking."
"So I was. I was thinking of what you were going to say next. I never met anybody who said less and took so long a time to say it in."
"Well," said Lucy, "I was thinking too."
"I know you were. You needn't be so afraid of me unless you like."
"I am not," said he stiffly, "in the least afraid of you. I'm desperately afraid of saying the wrong thing."
"To me? Or everybody?"