Martin feels a little guilty for turning the discussion to him — he certainly wasn't trying to draw sympathy — but he can't begrudge Gwenny her curiosity, nor the possibility that she might feel some small relief at shifting the focus away from her own fears for a moment.

"It was," he answers, equally soft. "We were involved in some very dangerous things, and we didn't really know how bad it was until it was too late. Being brought here saved us, I think." He smiles faintly, then looks at her. "But it left its marks, and as you've seen, that's quite bad enough."

He hesitates, supposing now might be as good a time as any to turn the conversation back to asking mutual questions. She's borne the weight of that long enough, he thinks.

"Back home, did you know anyone else who... dreamed like you did?" he asks. "Or was it just you?"