They were afraid, they were cold.

They looked down at the space between the two houses and saw a vague remnant of twilight slip away like a ship of glory.
It seemed to me that the window beside them entered the scene.

They gazed at it, dim, immense, blotting out everything around it.

After the brief interval of sinful passion, they were overwhelmed as if, looking at the stainless azure of the window, they had seen a vision.
Then their eyes met.
"See, we stay here," she said, "looking at each other like two miserable curs." They separated.

He seated himself on a chair, a sorry figure in the dusk.
His mouth was open, his face was contracted.