The Birds

(by Daphne du Maurier) (The tides have turned) On December the third, the wind changed overnight, and it was winter. Until then the autumn had been mellow, soft. The leaves had lingered on the trees, golden-red, and the hedgerows were still green. The earth was rich where the plow had turned it. Nat Hocken, because …

The Doll

(by Daphne du Maurier, adapted for this article) (Obsession.) Foreword. The following pages were found in a shabby pocket book, very much sodden and discoloured by salt water, tucked away between the crevices of a rock in —Bay. Their owner has never been traced, and the most diligent enquiries have failed to discover his identity. …