2
‘You had better give me one or other of those,’ said Margot, having watched Florian trudge the length of the Waldewiese with the book clutched in one hand and the fragile glass bottle swinging jauntily from the other.
He shot her an amused look. ‘I will not drop them, Margot.’
She eyed the bottle with misgivings she did not attempt to hide. He had hold of it by its slender neck, and she did not like the way the bottle swayed back and forth with the rhythm of his long steps.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘If it will make you feel better.’ He gave the bottle into her care, and she immediately took hold of it with both hands, cradling it gently. She was fascinated to find that the glass was warm to the touch.
‘You are not curious as to the nature of the book?’ she asked later, when silence had
