"Be quiet," a voice whispered, and the hand touched her arm again.

A voice, coming as if from a great distance, touched his mind.

Her voice, which I had not heard since the previous evening, touched me strangely.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet and musical, but touched with arrogance.

The voices arguing inside of her scarcely touched the outside.

"What a child you are," she said, her voice touched with the same bitterness he had heard then.

The voice was old but hard and touched with deadly power.

The heart that no other voice could touch felt that appeal.

But yet the voices touched something deep within her.

Apparently his voice had touched a raw place in her wounded heart.