Her gaze was so friendly and unembarrassed that Maskull felt scarcely any humiliation at sitting at her feet, naked and helpless. She realised his plight, and put into his hands a garment that she had been carrying over her arm. It was similar to the one she was wearing, but of a darker, more masculine colour.
"Do you think you can put it on by yourself?"He was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not sounded.
He forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the complications of the drapery.
"Poor man - how you are suffering!" she said, in the same inaudible language. This time he discovered that the sense of what she said was received by his brain through the organ on his forehead.
"Where am I? Is this Tormance?" he asked. As he spoke, he staggered.
She caught him, and helped him to sit down. "Yes. You are with friends."Then she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in English. Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so fresh, nervous, and girlish. "I can now understand your language.
It was strange at first. in the future I'll speak to you with my mouth.""This is extraordinary! What is this organ?" he asked, touching his forehead.
"It is named the 'breve.' By means of it we read one another's thoughts. Still, speech is better, for then the heart can be read too."He smiled. "They say that speech is given us to deceive others.""One can deceive with thought, too. But I'm thinking of the best, not the worst.""Have you seen my friends?"