Roland too had sometimes talked with her, especially while she was a child, about God and Christ; and she had regarded him as a spiritual director.

Now her guide was lost in the dense darkness.

There was no sure example for her to follow.
She had told her father he would never see her smile again if Roland Sefton was taken to jail.

There had been, of course, an implied promise in this, but the promise was broken.

Old Marlowe looked in vain for the sweet and merry smiles that had been used to play upon her face.