"Rouse him, before it's too late!" She moved mechanically in her chair; she looked mechanically at Julian.
"What more have I to say to him ?" she asked, in faint, weary tones.

"Did I not tell him everything when I told him my name ?" The natural sound of her voice might have failed to affect Horace.

The altered sound of it roused him.

He approached Mercy's chair, with a dull surprise in his face, and put his hand, in a weak, wavering way, on her shoulder.

In that position he stood for a while, looking down at her in silence.
The one idea in him that found its way outward to expression was the idea of Julian.