He remained talking with her however. ‘En tout cas, I have waiting for me a cavalier. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. He caressed her tenderly, with no trace of the Sebastian who had previously knocked her off her feet with a slap across the mouth. The air was pungent and leaden. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act.
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