“She wished she could talk as he did. His speech was so quick and easy. It sounded as if he liked her and was not the least afraid she would not like him, though he was only a common moor boy, in patched clothes and with a funny face and a rough, rusty-red head.”

“It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a person looked when he smiled. She had not thought of it before.”

“She did not care very much for other little girls, but if she had plenty of books she could console herself.”

“As she came closer to him she noticed that there was a clean fresh scent of heather and grass and leaves about him, almost as if he were made of them. She liked it very much and when she looked into his funny face with the red cheeks and round blue eyes she forgot that she had felt shy.”

“One marvel of a day he had walked so far that when he returned the moon was high and full and all the world was purple shadow and silver.”

“Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning; One pain is less'ned by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish.”

“Patch grief with proverbs.”

“Because I cannot sleep I make music at night.”