Fraulein von Hoffman regarded him with a drowsy lack of interest.
"But yes, surely, sometimes," she admitted.
"Does it fall always through the window—every day?"
"But yes, surely, if it is in the right place."
The community's sunbeam sighed.
"Does it fall on flowers and on boys and girls?" he persisted.
"But yes, it falls on everything that is near."
A look of pained surprise dawned upon the features of Ivan Ivanovitch.
"Always?" he asked, quickly. "Always—it falls on everything that is near?"
Fraulein von Hoffman placidly counted her stitches, confirming with a sigh her suspicion that in dozing she had dropped three.