title: Pattern of Shadows
author:  Judith Barrow 
description: "Judith Barrow has not written an ordinary romance but a book that deals with important issues which are still relevant today . . . an excellent debut novel and one I thoroughly enjoyed reading." &#8212;Fenella Miller, <I>Historical Novels Review</I><br /><br /><DIV></DIV>"Judith Barrow has written, with great intensity of emotions, an absorbing saga which charges along, tempting the reader from chapter to chapter."&#160; &#8212;Beryl Thomas, www.gwales.com<br /><br /><DIV></DIV>"Barrow beautifully evokes those raw and edgy days with this well-paced, gritty love story." &#160;&#8212;Steve Dube, <I>Western Mail</I><br /><br />"Thoughtful and atmospheric."&#160; &#8212;<I>Lancashire Evening Post</I><br /><br /><DIV></DIV>"The tension builds cleverly and the many threads in this rich mix of well-drawn characters and imminent dangers, combined with the strong sense of the deprivations and darkness of the wartime period, come together to create a gripping read." &#160;&#8212;<I>Tivy-side Advertiser</I><br /><br /><DIV></DIV>"An unforgettable debut novel&#8212;perfectly paced." &#160;&#8212;Menna Elfyn<br /><br /><DIV></DIV>"No ordinary love story; not only does Judith Barrow perfectly evoke a sense of time and place, but she deftly weaves in issues that speak across generations . . . An intelligent, poignant first novel brimming with intricate observations of the human condition." &#160;&#8212;Jan Fortune-Wood
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  # In The Valley Of The Shadow
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Josephine Daskam
  
  
  This page formatted 2007 Blackmask Online.
  
  
  http://www.blackmask.com
  
      
  
  Produced by David Widger
  
  
  
  
  
  IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW
  
  
  By Josephine Daskam
  
  
  Copyright, 1903, by Charles Scribner's Sons
  
  
  TO Belden, pacing the library doggedly, the waiting seemed
  
  
  interminable, the strain unnecessarily prolonged. A half-hour ago quick
  
  
  feet had echoed through the upper halls, windows had opened, doors all
  
  
  but slammed, vague whisperings and drawn breaths had hovered impalpably
  
  
  about the whole place; but now all was utterly quiet. His own regular
  
  
  footfall alone disturbed the unnatural stillness of a large house.
  
  
  Outside, the delicious October sun poured down through an atmosphere
  
  
  of faultless blue. The foliage was thick yet, and the red-and-yellow
  
  
  leaves danced heartlessly in the wind. A year ago they had gone on a
  
  
  nutting-party, and Clarice had raced with 