Comstock had never heard The Grandfather speak, and yet, now hunching himself into a pre-natal ball, his hands pressed tight against his ears, he knew that no other voice could have held that command, that awe-inspiring tone, that this voice held which now threatened to deafen him permanently.
The words that smote at Comstock were, "I am displeased."
Grundy ran to Comstock, gripped him by the shoulders, pulled Comstock's hands away from his ears and roared, "Follow me! They've got a speaker hidden someplace near here. I never knew they'd found Helen."
The girl's face was washed clean of every emotion but that of anger. She stood at Grundy's side, her hands on her hips and the words she spat out, hurt Comstock's ears even more than the larger than life roar of The Grandfather.
She said, "What a cheap trick!"
"Darling, I can't leave you here now. You must come with us!" Grundy's face was tortured.
"I know," she assented and waited for his orders.
Somehow Comstock forced himself to his feet. He would not, could not, allow himself to be shamed by this girl child. It was unmanly.
The voice of The Grandfather said, "My grandchildren are being naughty. I do not like this conduct. I am afraid, very afraid that you three need punishment."
The tones mumbled a long time after the words were no longer separable. It was like the aftermath of thunder. Comstock moaned in horrified torment.