Rebecca, always Rebecca. Wherever I walked in Manderley, wherever I sat, even in my thoughts and in my dreams, I met Rebecca. I knew her figure now, the long slim legs, the small and narrow feet. Her shoulders, broader than mine, the capable clever hands. Hands that could steer a boat, could hold a horse. Hands that arranged flowers; made the models of ships, and wrote "Max from Rebecca" on the fly-leaf of a book. I knew her fact too, small and oval, the clear white skin, the cloud of dark hair. I knew the scent she wore. I could guess her laughter and her smile. If I heard it, even among a thousand others, I should recognize it.🏁

Rebecca, always Rebecca. Wherever I walked in Manderley, wherever I sat, even in my thoughts and in my dreams, I met Rebecca. I knew her figure now, the long slim legs, the small and narrow feet. Her shoulders, broader than mine, the capable clever hands. Hands that could steer a boat, could hold a horse. Hands that arranged flowers; made the models of ships, and wrote "Max from Rebecca" on the fly-leaf of a book. I knew her fact too, small and oval, the clear white skin, the cloud of dark hair. I knew the scent she wore. I could guess her laughter and her smile. If I heard it, even among a thousand others, I should recognize it.🏁