Turning hastily away from this she opened the window and looked out.

The sun had not yet arisen, though there was a streak of light, forerunner of his advent, on the horizon.

Mountains, rivers, fields, and woods were all wrapped in a cold, grey mist, but still it was not dark.

Netta tore the bunch of roses from the bough and put them in her bosom, then re-closed the window.

She took up a large shawl that was lying on a chair, and a small package from underneath and dexterously arranged the shawl so as to fall over the parcel, as she held both in her hand and on her arm.