He took my face between his hands and looked at me. For the first time I saw how thin his face was, how white and tired. There were gret shadows beneath his eyes.
'It's too late, my dearling, too late. We've lost our little chance of happiness.'
'No, Maxim. No.' I saif
'Yes. It's all over nom. The thing has happened.'
'What thing ?'
'The thing I have always expected. The thing I have dreamt about, night after night. We were not meant for happiness, you and I.'
'What are you trying to tell me ?'
He put his hands over mine and looked into my face.
'Rebecca has won,' he saif.
What does Maxim de Winter mean ? And why will nobody talk to his new wife about Rebecca ? Little by little the mystery is solved... but not without tragic results.
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