"It wasn't spirits she feared. It was absence that seemed to fill her as a wind pillows leaves." (p 171) "...she was left to herself like a tree or a rock." (p 172)
There was a lesson to be learned--that of containment, of the hoarding of energy. She was a neophyte in surviving this white, bitter time, and she must take note and learn from those who had survived other winters. (p. 42)
When he pointed out the window and said "Blue" she knew instantly what he meant--the shadows stretching under the trees, the color of the snow strangely blue. (p 42)
But before Ruth reached her she raised a hand as though, three feet apart, they could be caught for good that way, the two of them remaining forever like figures on a marble frieze, their eyes holding, their hands lifted toward each other, caught always in the moment of recognition before anything could be said, any explanations given, any attempts made to bridge the gap.