“The spring flood, promised last week, was postponed again. At three o'clock, while she was at work, the north wind blew. Snow clouds caught up, and by ten in the evening the city began to be covered with snow pellets. She nervously pounded on the glass and covered the thawed courtyards and walkways. The poplar branches, which had softened under the midday sun and promised to begin shooting sticky, odorous buds in a few days, darted about in fear. And her favorite sparrow, who settled in an abandoned crow’s nest opposite her windows, became ruffled and fell silent...”