Then came the evening.
The wind ceased at sunset.
The familiar streets gained a sort of twilight mystery, while your soul felt an easy anxiety, as the heart was visited by sweet pain that accompanies the first act of falling in love, when you don't know what will be the upshot of it all.
Please postpone your engagements, dear reader. I suggest you recollect how it happens. In the story called The Queen of the Night, you will fall in love with a young astrologer and will save an enchanted maiden soul from immortality.
I'll take you along the invisible boundary between worlds and you'll see which of them the heroine of the second story would choose.
Next, you manage to penetrate into the castle of an old witch; before your very eyes, Lorinde, wearing a live cloak, will fly from trembling birds…, ah, why I'm I telling you the story - pour yourself a cup of tea, light up the old family table lamp - what have you got? A green glass or with lacy old shade, and may be you have such with a lamp in the form of a candle fame and crystal icy suspensions? Sit comfortably on the chair, open the book and enjoy the vague mist of my stories.