“She is your treasure, she must have a husband;I must dance bare-foot on her wedding dayAnd for your love to her lead apes in hell.Talk not to me: I will go sit and weepTill I can find occasion of revenge.”

“Her husband leaned forward on the bed, hands balled into fists. “There’s something you must understand, Brenna. I feel your emotions. I sense when you are upset. Don’t ask me why, I haven’t a clue. But your distress woke me. I’ve been sitting there,” he waved at the chair, “for more than three hours waiting for you to stir.Did she sense his emotions also? She thought maybe she did.”

“She smiles at our husband as she moves, and he blushes, overcome by her beauty. But I know what her smile really means...Her smile is her revenge.”

“Ah,' she says. 'But I know where your heart was. I know where it still is. And so do you.'He's gone,' I say. I lock the canvas into a hoop and hand it back to her. 'Here.'Then you must find him,' she says. 'You'll never stop loving him, you know. He'll never really be gone. My Gabriel is still here.'Your Gabriel?'Yes, my Gabriel. My husband.'You mean Lawrence,' I say. Lawrence, her husband who disappeared in a storm over thirty years ago.I mean my Gabriel. Everyone has one.' Ada takes my hand it puts it over her chest. 'Eva, my heart is ancient. But it still beats for him. Only for him.'I look into Ada's glistening eyes. She is telling the truth.You must find him.'I know that she is right.(Anxious Hearts)”

“I thought you loved your husband.” She blows air through her nose.The action reminds me of an agitated horse. Her eyes rove from my shoes and land in disgust on my face. “I love yours too.”

“The poor girl ws keeping that student's letter as a precious treasure, and had run to fetch it, her only treasure, because she did not want me to go away without knowing that she, too, was honestly and genuinely loved; that she, too, was addressed respectfully. No doubt that letter was destined to lie in her box and lead to nothing. But none the less, I am certain that she would keep it all her life as a precious treasure, as her pride and justification, and now at such a minute she had thought of that letter and brought it with naive pride to raise herself in my eyes that I might see, that I, too, might think well of her.”