" He [Joss] lingered for a moment, looking down at her, and then he bent low and laid his fingers on her mouth. 'I've got a soft spot for you, Mary,' he said 'you've got spirit still, and pluck, for all the knocks I've given you. I've seen it in your eyes tonight. If I'd been a younger man I'd have courted you, Mary - aye, and won you too, and ridden away with you to glory. You know that, don't you?' She said nothing. She stared back at him as he stood beyond the door, and her hand that held the candlestick trembled slightly without her knowledge...

She went then to her bed, and sat down upon it, her hands in her lap; and, for some reason for ever unexplained, thrust away from her later and forgotten, side by side with the little old sins of childhood and those dreams never acknowledged to the sturdy day, she put her finger to her lips as he had done, and let them stray thence to her cheek and back again. And she began to cry, softly and secretly, the tears tasting bitter as they fell upon her hand. "

― Daphne du Maurier