"What is it?"
"You."
"Me?" she asked on a long note.
"I don't know whether I can trust you."
"Me?" she said again.
"Don't you remember how I asked you to be brave?"
"I tried, but it was easier then because I hadn't you." Her arm tightened round his neck. "Now you're another to look after."
He held her off from him. "What am I to do with you? What am I to do with you? How can I leave this funny little creature who is afraid of shadows?"
"That night," she said in a small voice, "you told me I looked brave."
"Yes, brave and sane. And I have often thought—don't laugh at me—I have thought that was how Joan of Arc must have looked."