Rebecca

by Daphne du Maurier

I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.

The devil does not ride us any more. We have come through our crisis, not unscathed of course.

Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind. Of course we have our moments of depression;

We had been sitting there an hour and a half, and the conversation had been mine alone. I tumbled down into reality, hot-handed and self-conscious, with my face aflame, and began to stammer my apologies.

I had ill-judged him, he was neither hard nor sardonic, he was already my friend of many years, the brother I had never possessed.

The hour I had looked forward to all day must be spent by myself alone, in my own bedroom, gazing at my Revelation suit-case and the stout hold-all.