"No. I don't think so. Are you?"
"No—er, in the office you know. Men like myself haven't much time."
"I suppose not."
The silence grew more gloomy.
Muriel rehearsed to herself the coming interview with her mother.
"And what did you do, dear?"
"Oh, I went for a walk to see an old church with Bobby Mason."
"Oh. That was nice, I expect. That boy's coming on, I think. They say that he's doing very well in his father's office," followed by a swift look at Muriel's face, and a reflection that the Masons were quite successful timber merchants even if the boys were reputed to be a little brainless.
Muriel did so much want to make her mother happy.
The silence oppressed them like a heavy weight. It grew fecund with other silences. They walked through the springing woods.