“Dreams of youth,” replied Marie, passing her hand over the strings of the lute.
“Ay, that was ever the way of old age,” and he smiled at her.
Marie was silent a moment, then suddenly spoke: “One may be full young and yet have old dreams.”
“How sweet the odor of musk in here! But was my humble person along in these ancient dreams, madam?—if I may make so bold as to ask.”
“Ah, no!”
“And yet there was a time—”
“Among all other times.”
“Ay, among all other times there was once a wondrously fair time when I was exceeding dear to you. Do you bring to mind a certain hour in the twilight, a sennight or so after our nuptials? ’Twas storming and snowing—”
“Even as now.”