The widower reviewed his past in a sunless light which was intensified by the greyness of the November twilight, whilst the bells subtly impregnated the surrounding atmosphere with the melody of sounds that faded like the ashes of dead years.
As he walked, the sad faded leaves were driven pitilessly around him by the wind, and under the mingling influences of autumn and evening, a craving for the quietude of the grave … overtook him with unwanted intensity.
On dirait que les projets de joie sont un défi.Trop longuement préparés,ils laissent le temps à la detinée de changer les oeufs dans le nid,et ce sont les chagrins qui nous faudra couver.
