She must be staying with her daughter now.
They had that house on Long Island in the summer.
I expect they played a lot of bridge.
They went to the races.
Mrs Van Hopper was fond of the races.
I wonder if she still wears that little yellow hat.
It was too small for her.
Much too small on that big face.
Mrs Van Hopper sitting about in the garden of that house on Long Island, with novels, and magazines, and papers on her lap.
Mrs Van Hopper putting up her lorgnette and calling to her daughter.
'Look at this, Helen.
They say Max de Winter murdered his first wife.
I always did think there was something peculiar about him.
I warned that fool of a girl she was making a mistake, but she wouldn't listen to me.
Well, she's cooked her goose now all right.
I suppose they'll make her a big offer to go on the pictures.'
Something was touching my hand.
It was Jasper.
It was Jasper, thrusting his cold damp nose in my hands.
He had followed me up from the hall.
Why did dogs make one want to cry?
There was something so quiet and hopeless about their sympathy.
Jasper, knowing something was wrong, as dogs always do.
Trunks being packed.
Cars being brought to the door.
Dogs standing with drooping tails, dejected eyes.
Wandering back to their baskets in the hall when the sound of the car dies away…
I must have fallen asleep because I woke suddenly with a start, and heard that first crack of thunder in the air.
I sat up.
The clock said five.
I got up and went to the window.
There was not a breath of wind.
The leaves hung listless on the trees, waiting.
The sky was slatey grey.
The jagged lightning split the sky.
Another rumble in the distance.
No rain fell.
I went out into the corridor and listened.
I could not hear anything.
I went to the head of the stairs.
There was no sign of anybody.
The hall was dark because of the menace of thunder overhead.
I went down and stood on the terrace.
There was another burst of thunder.
One spot of rain fell on my hand.
One spot.
No more.
It was very dark.
I could see the sea beyond the dip in the valley like a black lake.
Another spot fell on my hands, and another crack of thunder came.