His name was Kay , and hers was Gerda . Outside it was snowing fast . ` Those are the white bees swarming , ' said the old grandmother . ` Have they also a queen bee ? ' asked the little boy , for he knew that the real bees have one . ` To be sure , ' said the grandmother . ` She flies wherever they swarm the thickest . She is larger than any of them , and never stays upon the earth , but flies again up into the black clouds . Often at midnight she flies through the streets , and peeps in at all the windows , and then they freeze in such pretty patterns and look like flowers . ' ` Yes , we have seen that , ' said both children ; they knew that it was true . ` Can the Snow-queen come in here ? ' asked the little girl . ` Just let her ! ' cried the boy , ' I would put her on the stove , and melt her ! ' But the grandmother stroked his hair , and told some more stories . In the evening , when little Kay was going to bed , he jumped on the chair by the window , and looked through the little hole . A few snow-flakes were falling outside , and one of the , the largest , lay on the edge of one of the window-boxes . The snow-flake grew larger and larger till it took the form of a maiden , dressed in finest white gauze . She was so beautiful and dainty , but all of ice , hard bright ice . Still she was alive ; her eyes glittered like two clear stars , but there was no rest or peace in them .
She nodded XXXXX the window , and beckoned with her hand .
Outside at in into like that through till to upon