He calls her to him, his voice sharp and sudden in the quiet house. She walks towards him with hestitent steps, a child again if only he could see her.
She stands as far from him as he will tolerate, head down, and listens. If she could shrink now she would but she would not leave. It is not that she could not make a dash for the door, It is not that she does not dare. It is just that something in his manner takes the will from her.