Usually she would shake her head impatiently, as if all the world and its affairs (like a cloud of flies) were buzzing about her, shutting out sound or sight of her Richard.

Love like this, so deep, outwardly still, inwardly ravening (because insatiable), is a dreadful thing.

No one who saw Jehane with Richard in those days could hope for the poor girl's happiness.

As for him, he was more expansive, not at all tortured by love, master of that as of everything else.

He teased her after the first day, pinched her ear, held her by the chin.