But it was all a dream; or... «Любовник леди Чаттерлей»
aola8 февраля 2013But it was all a dream; or rather it was like the simulacrum of reality. The oak-leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that were only shadows or memories, or words.
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