Erich Maria Remarque. The life of a loan (№ 412518)

All day, invisible, he wondered to her, and she gave herself to the sound of his voice, just as she gave herself to the hot sky and the white glow of the sea. Clerfay was always with her, wherever she was, whether she slept under the pinia in the shadow of the statues of the gods, whether she read Petrarch or the "Confession of St. Augustine" on a bench, whether she admired the sea without thinking about anything, or sat on the terrace at that mysterious hour when dusk descends and the Italians say: "felicissima notte" * - at the hour when, at the will of an unknown deity, every question is strange in every word. The distant hum that filled the sky and evening with the thunder of the drums was heard constantly, and Lillian's blood flowed quietly and pulsated in unison. It was love without words.