“For a moment he felt a wild hope: perhaps this really was a nightmare. Perhaps he would awake in his own bed, bathed in sweat, shaking, maybe even crying . . . but alive. Safe. Then he pushed the thought away. Its charm was deadly, its comfort fatal.”

“He thought perhaps if he dreamt of him enough he'd go away forever and be dead among his kind”

“By saying it aloud, he thought perhaps it might seem silly to him. That perhaps he'd been swept up in the moment with Genevieve and that maybe he wasn't quite to the point of love yet. But he was dead wrong. The words felt right on his lips. Saying them aloud only confirmed what his heart already knew. He was well and truly in love with the lass, and there was naught but contentment within him at the whole idea.”

“The tree was so old, and stood there so alone, that his childish heart had been filled with compassion; if no one else on the farm gave it a thought, he would at least do his best to, even though he suspected that his child's words and child's deeds didn't make much difference. It had stood there before he was born, and would be standing there after he was dead, but perhaps, even so, it was pleased that he stroked its bark every time he passed, and sometimes, when he was sure he wasn't observed, even pressed his cheek against it.”

“Concordia experienced a profound rush of relief. He was safely home. Now, perhaps she would be able to shake off the feeling of dread that has descended on her after he had left.”

“It was difficult to understand that he would not come into the bungalow again and that when he got up in the morning she would not hear him take his bath in the Suchow tub. He was alive and now he was dead.”