So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. I haven’t, anyhow. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. Don’t be afraid to go on thinking it. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. “Please come home. They will guess that I am English. Tickle the ears of their reverences with any idle nonsense you please: but tell them nothing you care to have repeated. ” He stood up rather close to her and looked into her eyes. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic.
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