The children and boys ran after to where the road dipped over the hill.

A cluster of village folk turned the long, descending street.

In passing they spoke to Alexander and Ian.
"Who was married ?--Jock Wilson and Janet Macraw, o' Langmuir." The two lounged against the kirkyard wall, beneath the yews.
"_Marry!_ That's a strange, terrible, useless word to me!" "I don't know...." "Yes, it is!...

Ian, do you ever think that you've lived before ?" "I don't know.

I'm living now!" "Well, I think that we all lived before.