"That won't do, Charlotte. I saw you take him on your back."
She could feel the blood rising up in her face before him. He was hurting her with shame.
He persisted, merciless. "It was Conway who broke down."
She had tears now.
"Nobody knows," he said gently, "but you and me…. I want to talk to you about him. He must be got away from the Front. He must be got out of Belgium."
"You always wanted to get him away."
"Only because I saw he would break down."
"How could you tell?"
"I'm a psychotherapist. It's my business to tell."
But she was still on the defensive.