Susan lets the compliment drift away on the scant air between them - she doesn't feel as if she's been particularly gentle with Lancelot; more a slap-dash accumulation of bitter memories and earnest efforts to once more be a person that she, herself, enjoys spending time with. He helps with that. He's quite good at drawing her outside of herself for just enough that she can get another fingerhold on her old self. Perhaps that's what he means - she feels, maybe, that they might be kindred in this way, and perhaps that feels to him like a gentleness.

"I would hear more, if you wanted to say more."