“Don’t do that,” I said, “I want to talk to you.”
Her mouth trembled, hesitated, closed. She stayed where she was and stared at me; fear lurked in her eyes.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” I asked.
Her throat tightened, but she managed to nod.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, and I want you to help me. Don’t be scared of me. I’m in trouble and I want help.”
She looked puzzled, blinked her eyes, but she didn’t say anything.
“Look at me,” I said. “I don’t look dangerous, do I?”
She looked. I could see the fear leaving her eyes, and she straightened up.
“No,” she said, in a voice that wouldn’t have scared a mouse.
“I’m not,” I assured her. “You’ve read about me in the newspapers, haven’t you?”