I don't believe he is much past forty. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. And me, I know very much of soldiers. But there was, it insisted, no mobility in his face, no movement, nothing about him that warmed. You shall know the truth. ’ She spread her hands. What are you to do with a mad mother at a time when you need all your wits to take care of yourself?" "Don't concern yourself further about me," returned Jack.
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