周日玫瑰情
So slowly, like a pink, pathetic butterfly, I drifted down the path, coming at last to the terrace all full of roses. They seemed to fill the place, a sunny, gay throng. I was shy of them, they were so many and so bright. They seemed to be conversing and laughing. I feld myself in a strange crowd. It exhilarated me, carried me out of myself. I flushed with excitement. The air was pure scent.
So slowly, like a pink, pathetic butterfly, I drifted down the path, coming at last to the terrace all full of roses. They seemed to fill the place, a sunny, gay throng. I was shy of them, they were so many and so bright. They seemed to be conversing and laughing. I feld myself in a strange crowd. It exhilarated me, carried me out of myself. I flushed with excitement. The air was pure scent.
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