and on this particular Sunday morning of which I began with speaking she stood at the window of her little drawing-room, watching the long arm of a rose-tree that was attached to her piazza, but a portion of which had disengaged itself, sway to and fro, shake and gesticulate, against the dusky drizzle of the sky.
eta hasieran aipatu dudan igande goiz jakin horretan, bere saloitxoko leihoan zegoen zutik, lorioari itsatsirik zegoen arrosa-landarearen adar luze bati begira, zeinaren atal bat askaturik baitzebilen hara eta hona zabuka, astinka eta keinuka, zeru ilun lanbrotsuaren kontra.