He had spoken foolishly, hasty in his temper. How could he forget what she was like? How gentle she was, how kind and warm and generous. How she struggled and questioned and tried to hold onto her faith, even if it felt like it was slipping through her fingers.
She questioned Aslan, but that was in desperation, out of her depth and trying to find something to lay her hands on, to set her feet on and find it solid. She'd nearly sunk before in the raging waves of chaotic life.
He hoped that she would not sink again.