The wind was still moaning about the eaves, the rain still pattering upon the panes.
In the morning I sought out Seppi and told him.

It was down by the river.

His lips moved, but he did not say anything, he only looked dazed and stunned, and his face turned very white.

He stood like that a few moments, the tears welling into his eyes, then he turned away and I locked my arm in his and we walked along thinking, but not speaking.
We crossed the bridge and wandered through the meadows and up among the hills and the woods, and at last the talk came and flowed freely, and it was all about Nikolaus and was a recalling of the life we had lived with him.

And every now and then Seppi said, as if to himself: "Twelve days!--less than twelve days." We said we must be with him all the time; we must have all of him we could; the days were precious now.