Story of a Life, Volume 6 |
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Page 57
27 Zuzenko knocked at my window and shouted through cupped hands held at
the window - pane that the frost had reached fantastic proportions and that his
lungs ached . “ There can be no question of your going to 57 Cold.
27 Zuzenko knocked at my window and shouted through cupped hands held at
the window - pane that the frost had reached fantastic proportions and that his
lungs ached . “ There can be no question of your going to 57 Cold.
Page 70
I was sitting near the model of an old battleship , observing it very closely ( the
model was standing at window level ) and probably because of that , it suddenly
seemed to shudder and dislodge itself . And soon the battleship sailed out of the
...
I was sitting near the model of an old battleship , observing it very closely ( the
model was standing at window level ) and probably because of that , it suddenly
seemed to shudder and dislodge itself . And soon the battleship sailed out of the
...
Page 201
Konstantin Paustovsky. After that I remember nothing . I came to in the Botkin
hospital in Moscow in the middle of the night . I was lying in bed under an open
window , and through it came a strong smell of lime trees in full bloom in the
garden .
Konstantin Paustovsky. After that I remember nothing . I came to in the Botkin
hospital in Moscow in the middle of the night . I was lying in bed under an open
window , and through it came a strong smell of lime trees in full bloom in the
garden .
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able appeared asked Babel Bagritsky banks beauty birds boys breath brought called clear cold colour course covered dark door everything eyes face fact Father feeling felt floor flowers forests friends garden gave girls give hand happened head hundred immediately Kara-Bugaz kind knew land later leaves light lived looked lying morning Moscow Mother never night occasionally Odessa once particularly Peter play poet poetry published quiet rain reason remained remember river Roskin round Russian seemed ship short side silence sitting smell smoke soon sound started station story streets suddenly tell things thought took town train trees turned village voice walked walls warm whole wind window women writer wrote young Zuzenko