But neither of them was able to.
They looked at each other and sat steeped in the same thoughts, afraid to end this still night, which was to be followed by bad days.
Then the last candle went out.
Cordt’s lamp still burnt on the table, but it was as though everything in the room was displaced in its glow. There was darkness where light had been before and great shadows on the wall.
They both felt it as something uncanny and involuntarily moved closer together.
“Sing to me, Adelheid,” he said.
She went to the spinet and sat down and looked at the keys.
“Sing the last of the Lenore songs.”
She looked over her shoulder, but could not see the expression on his face.