Jane Sampson pouted, her lips moved as she murmured, "Not willing to divulge a single word."
This dinner, she had been busy for nothing!
James Black had good hearing, he did hear her but felt there was no need to speak. Talking too much would end up scaring her in the end.
For a time, neither of them spoke, and only the light sounds at the dinner table could be heard—occasionally the clink of chopsticks against bowls, or the tap of a soup scoop against the edge of the pot. The house was eerily quiet.
If Jane's mobile phone on the tabletop hadn't suddenly rung, this silence would probably have continued after the meal or even until bedtime.
It was always like this anyway. Between Jane Sampson and James Black, there was little to no communication, no common topics of conversation. Jane did not understand James's life and work; similarly, James was clueless about what Jane liked.
