Monday, June 11, 2012

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It was entirely immersed in its tranquil bliss, like a forest, rustling in the dim joyous whisper of spring, ready to open their buds. And in that blissful world - he was with her, he said, the ring, moving on strong legs, a great mystery in the phallus. And in itself, in every drop of blood she felt him - him and his child. His child was in it everywhere, like the quiet twilight. She was like a forest, a dark wreath of oaks, indistinctly russian women myriad drop buds. And at the same time, the desire was asleep in her body. But Clifford's voice went on reading. How was he not understand it! As he would not understand, bent over his book, a strange, rapacious and civilized, with broad shoulders and fake feet] What a strange creature with a sharp cold inflexible will, devoid of warmth, completely devoid of warmth and cordiality. As a model man of the future, which would not have souls, but only cold s russian women willpower. She shuddered slightly, suddenly frightened him. But all the warm flame of life was stronger than he, and all true it was hidden from him. Reading is over. She came to her senses. She lifted her head and was frightened when he saw that Clifford watched her pale sinister eyes, as if with hatred. "Thank you. You are well read Racine," - she said softly. "Almost as beautiful as you are listening," - he replied firmly. "What are you doing?" - He asked. "I do dress for the baby MRS. Flint." He turned away. Baby! Baby! It was all about what she thought. Just some kind of obsession. "In the end, - he said - from Racine, you can get anything you want. Emotions, which are presented in the form and harmonious order - is more important than disorderly emotions. "She watched him with large, vague, misty eyes. "Yes, I'm sure of it," - she replied. "Modernity has made only a vulgar emotions, russian women them. Classic control - that's what we need." "Yes, - russian women it slowly, thinking about how he was senseless, russian women idiotic person listening to an emotional speaker. - People only pretend to be sentient, but they really do not feel anything. And I think that is what they call - to be romantic. ""That's it!" - He said. Actually, he's just tired. The evening had tired him.

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