“[Jem] looked from Will to Tessa and raised his silvery eyebrows. "A miracle," he said. "You got him to speak.""Just to shout at me, really," said Tessa. "Not quite loaves and fishes.”
“He flushed, the colour dark against his pale skin. 'I mean. Tessa Gray, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?' Jem...”
“Thank you, Will," Jem murmured as Tessa drew the stumbling girl away as quickly as she could, and Will felt the words as three needle pricks inside his heart. Always when Will did something to protect Tessa, Jem thought it was for his sake, not for Will's. Always Will wished Jem could be entirely right. Each needle prick had its own name. Guilt. Shame. Love.”
“You sound as if you don't mind what happens to it," said Tessa. "Won't you miss it here? This place has been your home."His fingers stroked her wrist lightly, making her shiver."You are home for me now.”
“I am stronger when Tessa is here, you see. I told it to you," said Jem, still in the same soft voice.At that, Will did duck his head so that Tessa could not see his eyes. "I see it," he said.”
“Jem gave her a wistful look. “Must you go? I was rather hoping that you’d stay and be a ministering angel, but if you must go, you must.” “I’ll stay,” Will said a bit crossly, and threw himself down in the armchair Tessa had just vacated. “I can minister angelically.” “None too convincingly. And you’re not as pretty to look at as Tessa is,” Jem said, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the pillow. “How rude. Many who have gazed upon me have compared it to gazing at the radiance of the sun.” Jem still had his eyes closed. “If they mean that it gives you a headache, they aren’t wrong.”