1. "Keep to your room!" commanded my lady shrilly, retreating to the hall with her little handkerchief clasped to her nostrils. "Wretched girl! We cannot have everyone in the house stricken with a putrid cold - especially now! Oh, I pray I may not have contracted it!"

2. ". . . But I am being naughty and confusing you again, poor child. The thing is, you see, that the three dogs were gifts as puppies, whereas the cats, as cats will, adopted me from time to time . . . (and) as each cat came into my life, it chose a dog for itself . . ."

3. She was not conscious of having screamed, nor of having moved, but somehow she was kneeling on top of a bale, a good ten feet from the cage. The light was a little brighter here and she saw the bear drop down to all fours, and mutter to itself disconsolately.

4. The scream woke her. The candle on the chest of drawers was guttering and she blinked stupidly around the unfamiliar room. Where on earth was she? And why was she sleeping fully dressed? She could not seem to think, and when another scream echoed along the corridor it was with great effort that she managed to stand. The bedchamber tilted. She fought the dizziness. Someone was in trouble. She must go and help. If only her silly feet would move . . .

5. ". . . We can protect our children while they are children, John. But a man must live or die according to his own moral code. If - God forbid - the worst should happen, it would mean that Lucian had died for something he believed worth the risk. I must admit I'm proud he chose this course. I like to think that under similar circumstances I might have had the decency to do the same. I know damn well you would!"

6. She stood when Amanda entered . . . "Pray sit here by the fire. It is so chill for this time of year." . . . Amanda, her little face deeply distressed, seized here hand between both her own . . . "I came as soon as I heard oh you cannot know how sorry I am you must be fairly retort and so soon after you are wed my poor soul!"

7. His head was held high, his mouth tight, and with the darkening clouds behind him he looked stern and formidable. She was reminded of a painting she'd once seen depicting a Roman centurian preparing to lead his men into mortal combat . . .

8. They had come to a bridge, a rickety wooden structure. He dismounted and walked cautiously onto the timbers, the chestnut minced along, his cold nose at his master' neck. They were safely across and starting down the incline to level ground when he checked, listening intensely. Almost at once there came a faint cry . . . "Help! Please help me!"