В полдень послышался клюнувший ключ.

“You know, I still feel in my wrists certain echoes of the pram-pusher’s knack, …”

“The lost glove is happy.”

“but that mimosa grove - the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew…”

“I adore you, mon petit, and would never allow him to hurt you, no matter how ge…”