As he did so his black eyes
twinkled up.
'Ha! Ha!' she laughed, warmed by the whimsical way in which he mocked
at her verbal extravagances. He was always teasing her, mocking her
ways. But as he in his mockery was even more absurd than she in her
extravagances, what could one do but laugh and feel liberated.
She could feel their voices, hers and his, ringing silvery like bells
in the frozen, motionless air of the first twilight. How perfect it
was, how VERY perfect it was, this silvery isolation and interplay.
She sipped the hot coffee, whose fragrance flew around them like bees
murmuring around flowers, in the snowy air, she drank tiny sips of the
Heidelbeerwasser, she ate the cold, sweet, creamy wafers. How good
everything was! How perfect everything tasted and smelled and sounded,
here in this utter stillness of snow and falling twilight.
'You are going away tomorrow?' his voice came at last.
'Yes.'
There was a pause, when the evening seemed to rise in its silent,
ringing pallor infinitely high, to the infinite which was near at hand.
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