"He'll get me this way," she found herself almost whispering, and aloud she said, "George, let's wait and see. Tell me some more about when you were little."
Things went smoothly after that, and when she went to bed, she talked to Jane.
"We mustn't have any pauses," she said. "We can feel each other then. We must talk all the time, and, oh, Jane, I'm so fond of silence!"
That night a voice waked her from a dreamless sleep.
"Helen, are you there?"
"Yes. Do you want something?"
"I have been thinking." Her tongue seemed too thick for her mouth. "Is the dog on the landing?"
"Yes. He's always there. You haven't been afraid?"
"No. It's a big house for two women."
Helen sat up and, putting her feet into her slippers, she opened the door. Jim was sleeping in the darkness: he woke, looked up and slept again. It was a quiet night and not a door or window shook.