Sleeping Rooms in Winter

For many years have now elapsed since the calm-brigh days, when coming in from the longest and latest walks, I would still be in time to see the reflection of the sunset. These shifting and confused gusts of memory never lasted for more than a few seconds. This is a very different kind of existence, at Tansenville, now with Manuel de Saint Louis, than a different kind of pleasure that I now derive from taking walks only in the evenings. The roads on which I used to play, as a child in the sunshine, while the bedroom, in which I shall presently fall asleep instead of dressing for dinner, from far off I can see it, as we return from