Roger's hearing was extremely acute.

Though the room where he was sitting, his study, was at the back of the house, he heard Deborah's key at the street door and he heard the door softly open and close.
"Are you there, dearie ?" Her voice from the hallway was low; and his answer, "Yes, child," was in the same tone, as though she were with him in the room.

This keen sense of hearing had long been a peculiar bond between them.

To her father, Deborah's voice was the most distinctive part of her, for often as he listened the memory came of her voice as a girl, unpleasant, hurried and stammering.

But she had overcome all that.