"Let us drive to the Tiergarten," said Lilly, drinking in her fill of the snow-laden air.
She threw herself back on the cushions of the coupé sang and beat time with her feet on the floor.
He sat silently in his corner and looked out of the window.
"Do say something," she implored.
"I have nothing to say," he said, and studiously looked beyond her with his red, bleary eyes.
The carriage rolled noiselessly along under the snow-covered trees, which every now and then sent down a shower of silvery stars on to their laps.
A drowsy lethargy came over her.
"I should like to drive on like this for ever," she whispered, seeking a support for her head.
Then it seemed suddenly as if Walter's arm was round her waist and as if her left cheek rested against Walter's throat, as once in those blissful November nights.
But how did Walter come here now? She started up, wide awake again.