--Oh, then--your head was sunk in the cushions,
your breast hidden under the roses, your arms bare to the elbow--nothing
in this world could be so dear and sweet as the little tremor of your
white hands upon my temples--do you remember?'
'Yes--go on.'
He went on with ever-increasing fervour. Carried away by his own
eloquence, he was hardly conscious of what he said. Elena, her back
turned to the light, leaned nearer and nearer to him. Under them the
river flowed cold and silent; long slender rushes, like strands of hair,
bent with every gust and trailed on the surface of the water.
He had ceased to speak, but they were gazing into one another's eyes and
their ears were filled with a low continuous murmur which seemed to
carry away part of their life's being--as if something sonorous had
escaped from their very brains and were spreading away in waves of sound
till it filled the whole air about them.
Elena rose from her stooping posture. 'Let us go on,' she said. 'I am so
thirsty--where can we get some water?' They crossed the bridge to a
little inn on the other side, in front of which some carters were
unharnessing their horses with much lively invective. The setting sun
lit up the group of men and beasts vividly.
The people at the inn showed not the faintest sign of surprise at the
entry of the two strangers.
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