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When he had looked at it a little he slipped it down, and there was that other one that old one of Irene. An owl hooted while he stood in his window gazing at it. The owl hooted, the red climbing roses seemed to deepen in colour, there came a scent of lime-blossom. God! That had been a different thing! Passion Memory! Dust!
And then she remembered how as a child in far-away Sussex she used to press her face into the lime-blossom in her uncle's garden passionately, greedily, trying to get from it a greater pleasure than it would ever yield. For the more she tried to compel it, by a kind of violence, the more it escaped her. She used to envy the bees lying drunk among the blooms.
When he had looked at it a little he slipped it down, and there was that other one that old one of Irene. An owl hooted while he stood in his window gazing at it. The owl hooted, the red climbing roses seemed to deepen in colour, there came a scent of lime-blossom. God! That had been a different thing! Passion Memory! Dust!
When he had looked at it a little he slipped it down, and there was that other one that old one of Irene. An owl hooted while he stood in his window gazing at it. The owl hooted, the red climbing roses seemed to deepen in colour, there came a scent of lime-blossom. God! That had been a different thing! Passion Memory! Dust!
Suddenly, as he approached it, the night burst into fragrance, for a gust of wind shook the lime-blossom, and flung the scent in Meynell's face; while at the same time the dim masses of roses in the garden sent out their sweetness to the passers-by. A feeling of pleasure, quick, involuntary, passed through his mind; pleasure in the thought of what these flowers meant to the owner of them.
The summer evening is slowly melting into night, the warm air is fragrant of mignonette and lime-blossom; and at the window, leaning on her arm, her head bent on her shoulder, sits a young girl, and silently, intently gazes into the sky, as though looking for new stars to come out.
Herr Carovius went home and made a lime-blossom tea; such a tea had often helped him when he had not felt well. The rain dripped down on the kitchen window sill. Herr Carovius said to himself: “That is my last funeral.” Along in the evening Dorothea came in and after her Philippina Schimmelweis.
On we rode, up hill and down dale, through shady lanes full of the smell of lime-blossom, skirting meadows fragrant with the ripe mellow hay and honey-sweet clover, and then between plantations of aromatic, spicy fir and pine, all exhaling their perfumes under the influence of the warm sunset.
After waiting a minute, I would go in and kiss her; Francoise would be making her tea; or, if my aunt were feeling 'upset, she would ask instead for her 'tisane, and it would be my duty to shake out of the chemist's little package on to a plate the amount of lime-blossom required for infusion in boiling water.
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