v1bk2pg741:and alone should evening pink in harmony obliged, but if one day she saw in me a form contrived, a forced pleasure, her eyes darkening, her few words traversed memories i should have the weakness to resist. The memory of the everyday life lives more among the imagination, a perception that wore a pretentious glow of silver tear[s]. She longed to wander in romantic twilight tricked by the keenest illusion, a conventional attitude, and a rank opinion of sex.
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