George swallowed the lump in his throat as whoever had invaded their home moved about the kitchen, coming to the point where they would see him and he would see them. His senses said Nina, but that couldn't be true. She'd gone. And everything smelled of her anyway. It could be simply something the stranger stroked to life in the kitchen, one way or another. It wasn't until she said George, that he began to hyperventilate.
When she peered out, it was obvious he didn't even have a shoe. He was just standing there, white as a sheet, and wide eyed. "N-n-n... Nina?" He squeaked out softly. As if speaking too loudly would make the vision just there vanish in a puff of smoke.
He shook, and quivered. He was quite sure he was just on the thread of passing out. Wouldn't that just do? Him to faint. So rather than forcibly meet the floor with his head, he simply sat. There in the way, and stared at her.