Bolter was allowed to explain the
technicalities, but it was plain that Mount Dunstan was familiar with
all of them, and it was he who, with a sentence here and there, gave her
the colour of things.
"When it is being done there is nearly always outside a touch of the
sharp sweetness of early autumn," he said "The sun slanting through the
little window falls on the pale yellow heaps, and there is a pungent
scent of hops in the air which is rather intoxicating."
"I am coming later to see the entire process," she answered.
It was a mere matter of seeing common things together and exchanging
common speech concerning them, but each was so strongly conscious of
the other that no sentence could seem wholly impersonal. There are
times when the whole world is personal to a mood whose intensity seems a
reason for all things. Words are of small moment when the mere sound of
a voice makes an unreasonable joy.
"There was that touch of sharp autumn sweetness in the air yesterday
morning," she said. "And the chaplets of briony berries that look as if
they had been thrown over the hedges are beginning to change to scarlet
here and there. The wild rose-haws are reddening, and so are the
clusters of berries on the thorn trees and bushes.
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