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Violet thought back to her Latin at school. “Art is long, life short,”
“Not so hasty, Miss Speedwell. May I assume you are a Miss Speedwell?” Violet gritted her teeth. “Yes.” “Well, you young people are far too quick to give up.” It had been a long time since Violet had been called a young person.
a leader comfortable with her authority does not need to be strident, but can afford to be generous.
Unpicking was so dispiriting, like having to retrace your steps after leaving home because you’ve left behind your purse.
there are twelve bells at the cathedral whereas here there are only five. There’s much less you can do with five.
“I know it seems peculiar,” Arthur admitted, “but we English are peculiar. We like to ring in mathematical sequences rather than melodies. However, if you pay close attention to the bells—which most people don’t do—then you may begin to pick out some of the patterns.”
“There is an ancient rule in ringing chambers: no hats worn—or spurs!”
“A peal takes three hours and fifty-five minutes to ring?”
It was past ten now, and she longed to be in bed, reading Trollope.
Violet began to feel she was living in a Jane Austen novel, but at least her aunt’s brief presence gave her some respite.
“How is your mother?” It was the question everyone asked, Violet had noticed. No one asked how she was.
she can be difficult.” “Why, what does she do?” “She leaves the room!” Violet burst out laughing. “I don’t see anything funny about it,” Mrs. Speedwell declared, indignant. “There’s nothing worse than being ignored.”
Aut viam inveniam aut faciam. Hannibal: I will either find a way or make
“Per angusta, ad augusta. Through difficulties to honors.”
High above them a single bell began to ring—tentative at first, like a mistake, then clanging and urgent, like the ringing she and Arthur had done together at Nether Wallop. Calling all sinners.
