This is an exceptionally tranquil night.
The delicate pendulum ticks on the wall, which does not contradict this serenity in the slightest. Instead, along with the starlight seeping into the room from the outside, it renders everything around even more languid.
Frank Hughes rarely does not use his seemingly endless stories to lull Diana to sleep.
And usually, as long as both 'Frank' and 'bed' are present, Diana Archizorti, even with someone telling her never-tiring stories beside her ear, would fall asleep within a few minutes, and yet she was rarely not very sleepy now.
At some point, Diana, who had been nestled beside Motan, sat up again and lent her knees to her inexplicably weary lover.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
