“Yet he was still shaken by fading echoes of his fear that she might flee. Losing her would be very . . . personal.”

“It was not the passion that was new to her, it was the yearning adoration. She knew she had always feared it, for it left her helpless; she feared it still, lest if she adored him too much, then she would lose herself, become effaced, and she did not want to be effaced, a slave, like a savage woman. She must not become a slave. She feared her adoration, yet she would not at once fight against it.”

“Her body poised with the tension of a wild animal, ready to pounce - or to flee. So beautiful, he thought. As he voiced the words, she faded away, and his world returned to blackness.”

“Will I see you at all?”He shook his head. But he couldn’t yet make himself move away. He was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her, unwilling to say that final good-bye. He held her for a minute, then two, then three, simply holding her and committing to memory what he could not have in life. There was a sweet, comforting scent to her.His memory was very, very good, but she was better.He only loosened his grip when he feared he might not be able to let go of her at all.”

“The voice of a rebeck echoed from somewhere behind him. The music echoed and echoed until it entered his head, still echoing. It suffused his body and he felt himself to be large, very large, not a child at all. And his skin was not his own.”

“Meg and I dreamed ... a foolish dream that we might flee to Italy, buy a small villa in the country. I would be an eccentric recluse, and she wouldnpreform on the stage. We might yet have made a life...”