The Night of Orvenor

Katarina of Orvenor looked up at the sky through the pale pink apple blossom Sergei was silent too with both his arms flung around his knees he was staring down at his boots. The night was golden silence light delicate perfumes and a benign in the liveening warmth beyond the ravine at the end of the orchard someone began singing in a resonant voice in the dense bird cherry thicket by the fence  a nightingale drilled and burst into loud song in a cage on a tall pole, a quail gave voice to its drowsy delirium,. A sleek horse let out a lazy sigh from the other side of the stable wall and a boister