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Quote by Amie Kaufman

“I can see his breath stirring the dust in the air, making it dance in the beam from the flashlight. It quickens as I watch him, until I can almost hear a waltz, each particle of dust twirling to the ghost of that old song.”

Quote by Amie Kaufman

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Amie Kaufman

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“This is my favorite waltz," she told him, moving into his arms. "I know. That's why I requested it." "How did you know?" she asked with an incredulous laugh. "I suppose one of the Bowman sisters told you?" Simon shook his head, while his gloved fingers curved around hers. "On more than one occasion, I saw your face when they played it. You always looked ready to fly out of your chair." Annabelle's lips parted in surprise, and she stared up at him with a wondering gaze. How could he have noticed something so subtle? She had always been so dismissive of him, and yet he had noticed her reaction to a particular piece of music and remembered it. The realization brought the sting of tears to her eyes, and she looked away immediately, fighting to bring the sudden baffling swell of emotion under control.”

“It was exciting and slightly embarrassing to feel the floor with her naked toes as he swept her into one luxurious full turn after another. Of course, the sensation of dancing with bare feet wasn't entirely new: She'd waltzed alone in her bedroom more than once, imagining herself in the arms of some unknown suitor. But it felt very different when her partner was a flesh-and-blood man. She relaxed and abandoned herself, following his guidance without effort or thought. Although they'd started slowly, Mr. Severin had quickened their tempo to match the music. The waltz was flowing and swift, each turn making her skirts whirl in eddies of silk and glitter. It was like flying. Her stomach turned light, as if she were on a garden swing, soaring a little too high and coming down in a giddy arc. She hadn't felt so free since she'd been a young girl, running recklessly across the Hampshire Downs with her twin. The world was nothing but moonlight and music as the two of them swept through the empty conservatory with the ease of mist carried on a sea breeze.”

“The music started, and we began to dance. It was like magic. A ghost can't lead, of course; he can't tell you where to go, with just a bit of pressure on your hand or your back. But I knew, anyway. I knew exactly where to turn, where to move. It was as if he was telling me with his eyes, which were locked on mine. And it was as if I was seeing another time through his eyes, because even though I was still in the Quackadoodle, at the same time I was back in Charleston, a hundred and twenty five years before.”

“We’ve got to go to the police,” Alec repeated. He wondered if somebody was actually dead or if the vicar had imagined it. But then there was the bloody cassock. “Come with me,” Father Joe pleaded. “It’s just down the road in my vestry. And then we can decide what we should do about the police.” Alec thought he might as well. There might be a story in it if it was something to do with Charlotte de Tournet. Would people remember her disappearance? It was so long ago. But then there was the connection to Baroness Freya Saumures …”