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For the first time, Iris thought, she had heard the adult in Hooker - the sort of adult you would accuse of being childish.

There was just one grave, one silence.

"It is a good thing, whether you know it or not, just to be alive," she said, hugging her coat around her.

Rosetta did not speak, but a feeling happened - almost like speech.

Alberta had a quiet strength, which came from having once believed in God.

He felt the old longing to know things and not to wonder anymore.

The house whispered around his head. A thought - something about an old fear of being left alone - caught at him inside and tugged at him, like seaweed pulling free from a rock in the tide.

his face was that of someone who could remember only something sad.

Rosetta attempted, but failed, to smile.

He was concentrating with cruel attention on the exactness of the memory.

He was small for his eleven years, but his feet seemed to be far away.

The field and its welcome would always be there.

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