I can see you now--how you suddenly seized the whole mass in your two hands and buried your face in it, drinking in the perfume.

When you lifted it again all the blood seemed to have left your face, and your eyes were swimming in a kind of ecstasy----' 'Go on--go on!' said Elena feverishly, as she leaned over the parapet fascinated by the rushing waters below.
'Afterwards, you remember on the sofa--I smothered you in flowers--your face, your bosom, your shoulders, and you raised yourself out of them every moment to offer me your lips, your throat, your half closed lids.
And between your skin and my lips I felt the rose leaves soft and cool.
I kissed your throat and a shiver ran through you, and you put out your hands to keep me away .-- 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.