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581 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1975
“What remains, four years afterwards, are the haunted rooms of the departed: of a young, vigorous man with red hair and an old man left in his blood in a bothy; of a henchman dragged from his horse with an arrow in him, and another, darker of skin, dead of fighting in a Greek courtyard. Of a man returning from perilous seas to drown, seeking his son, near his homeland; of a girl dying blind behind yellow silk curtains, and another burning at night in an African pavilion. And a child, a son … an only son … playing with shells at the feet of the father who shortly would kill it.”
“A great many inferior people, Mr Crawford, have helped you over the years in your well-publicized career of adversity, but you mustn’t be surprised if the circle begins to diminish. To go by what happened this evening, the man who has finally emerged from it all isn’t worth helping.”
“It doesn’t do my self-esteem much good though, does it?’
‘Your self-esteem has had a lifetime of steady attention,’ said Philippa abstractedly.”
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“Philippa allowed polite regret to inform every muscle. ‘Whatever day it occurs,’ she said, ‘I feel I have a previous engagement.’
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“Only, where is the little bitch?’
He never did hear the answer, for Philippa stabbed him from behind with her husband’s poniard. She dragged it out as he fell and stabbed him again, gritting her teeth, in the area delineated in white paint by the black eunuch who instructed the princes’ class in the seraglio.”
“My son took many years to learn the simple truth. You cannot love any one person adequately until you have made friends with the rest of the human race also. Adult love demands qualities which cannot be learned living in a vacuum of resentment.”
“I am saying that the salvation of each man’s soul lies within himself, and is not a matter which concerns even his brother.’
‘So,’ said Mary, ‘you would condemn the human race to hell, for want of enlightenment?’
‘Why not?’ said Francis Crawford. ‘It has nothing to fear, surely, from hell.”
“We have reached the open sea, with some charts; and the firmament.”





“I don’t like to see things done badly on either. At the moment, I am tired of journeys. It is time I arrived somewhere.”
At the moment, I am tired of journeys. It is time I arrived somewhere.
He wondered why his lordship had claimed to be unable to identify the boy on the bridge. Then he recalled something he had heard rumoured. Once, Lymond had questioned a child and lived to regret it.
"You may give me a brooch. A sapphire one."
"Ah," he said. "But will you take care of it?"