“Come to think of it, she did not speak a word. Yet I could have sworn she had the most beautiful voice.”

“Was it so wrong to relish the feeling anyway? To enjoy the way it lingered, leaving her with a wistful awareness, a pleasant unease, as if she had forgotten to do something? Yes, it probably was wrong. But she did not wish it away.”

“Do you not pray, Miss Smallwood?'She avoided his gaze. 'No.''God is speaking to you every day,' he said softly. 'You might return the favor.'She raised her chin. 'I don't hear Him.''Do you listen?'She looked at him, clearly offended, then turned away again. 'I used to pray, until I found God was not listening, at least not to my prayers.'[He] heard the inner voice of caution but barreled ahead. 'He was listening. But He doesn't always answer the way we would like Him to.”

“How rough your hands still are.”Embarrassed, she made to pull them away, but he held them fast. “Yet never have I longed to kiss any woman’s hands as I long to kiss these.”

“She also watched Miss Upchurch as she danced with Mr. Hudson. They bounded through the steps in lively abandon. Mr. Hudson’s form was a bit ungainly, but he had never seemed so young and handsome as he did while dancing with Miss Upchurch.”

“Emptiness gnawed at Emma. Could she> face death without fear? If she were to show up at heaven's door tomorrow, would God even recognize her, when it had been so long since she'd bothered to call on Him?”

“She smiled and feigned enthusiasm, although she cared little for the game. Sometimes that's what you did for the people you loved.”