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Mrs Dalloway said she would buy the gloves herself.
Big Ben was striking as she stepped out into the street. It was eleven o'clock and the unused hour was fresh as if issued to children on a beach. But there was something solemn in the deliberate swing of the repeated strokes; something stirring in the murmur of wheels and the shuffle of footsteps.

  • Mrs Dalloway in Bond Street
  • story
紙本書 NT$ 300
單本電子書
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