Clara slept in a big armchair which had appeared in the room’s transforming. Each day came the Doctor. He had a little ruddy VanDyck beard and eyes that twinkled. He had soothing hands. He was a part of Clara ... hence of Fanny. When he left, there was his soothing wake in the soft brown air of the room.
“You are silent,” she said to him, “like a canoe.”
“Well, we’ll paddle you back to shore and health,” he smiled. She saw the eyes of Clara beam excitement.
“You have not spoken,” Clara said, “you have not spoken before!”
—I love my silence. Fanny lay back in her new thick pillows. I am going to be silent.
“Soon we can bring you away from this dreadful place. Can’t we, Doctor?”
He nodded.
—I shall keep my silence as long as I can.
Fanny looked with warm eyes at the glass of milk which Clara held for her.—I could hold it now. But I won’t. She did not speak.