16 The soft gray numbness around me quivered, and I felt a sort of frozen panic at the thought that the sight of him might rip it away from me..."Claire!" he said again..."Claire," he said more softly, now that he could see me looking at him. "Claire-it was my child, too." ...I could feel my gray wrappings being inexorably stripped away, and small, bright streaks of pain shot through me like lightening bolts piercing cloud.
"Glory of youth glowed in his soul; / Where is that glory now? / Sing me a song of a lad that is gone, / Say, could that lad be I?" __R.L.Stevenson, Sing me a Song of a Lad that is Gone. Sigh, so perfect for Voyager Jamie.