"I've come ..." she paused.
"Poor Jacob," said Mrs.Durrant, quietly, as if she had known him all his life.

"They're going to make you act in their play." "How I love you!" said Elsbeth, kneeling beside Mrs.Durrant's chair.
"Give me the wool," said Mrs.Durrant.
"He's come--he's come!" cried Charlotte Wilding.

"I've won my bet!" "There's another bunch higher up," murmured Clara Durrant, mounting another step of the ladder.

Jacob held the ladder as she stretched out to reach the grapes high up on the vine.
"There!" she said, cutting through the stalk.

She looked semi-transparent, pale, wonderfully beautiful up there among the vine leaves and the yellow and purple bunches, the lights swimming over her in coloured islands.