when the bamboo whisk woke the tea to its true life, to light, it seemed to me, for a moment, that I could feel Antonia's thoughts - she wanted to think hellebore-coloured thoughts on that bridge, so much I knew - turn green. the long, unending hair seemed suddenly to shine with a deeper red against the jade in the bowl. and then the thoughts were gone. the pain was gone. the purity of joy came down upon our heads. and we met somewhere below the surface, and jenseits of the word. because not everything is about voyeuristic interest, but the need and mystery of embracing the other as the whole, open world. Antonia held the bowl in her two hands for a long time, before bringing it to her lips.