But that incorporeal thing had a life and a power of its own.
Never before had she felt that unearthly chill run through her, nor that strange sensation in her hair.

It was a thing of evil omen, and the presage was already about to be fulfilled.

The spirit of the dark woman had arisen at the sound of the words in which he denied her; she had risen and had come to claim her own, to rob Unorna of what seemed most worth coveting on earth--and she could take him, surely, to the place whence she came.

How could Unorna tell that he was not already gone, that his spirit had not passed already, even when she was lifting his weight from the ground?
At the despairing thought she started and looked up.

She had almost expected to see that shadow beside her again.