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Mona Collins

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… So, we would just leave Paris by this train of one hour twenty-two that I had taken too long to look for in the indicator of the railways, where it gave me each time the emotion, almost the blessed illusion of departure, so as not to imagine that I knew him … (…) At a time when I was counting the thoughts that had filled my mind during the previous minutes, to realize whether or not I had just slept (and when the very uncertainty that made me ask myself the question was providing me with a affirmative answer),...

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