and shed answerwith no hesitation at all , as if it were true ; and in that voice , in that accent which was the miracle of the precise scottish she had drunk with her mothers milk tempered by the rolling hills of mellower english , which to his ears was not speaking at all , it was singing , it was giving the air a gift each time she spokeand with those gifts shed answer , shed always answer , looking straight at him and explaining to him with her serious and oh , so lovely lips , in what had become a little ritual : didnt he know ?