John: I had such a dream last night: I was floating above the trees, with my lips connected to those of a beautiful figure. For what seemed like an age, flowery treetops sprung up beneath us and we rested on them, with the lightness of a cloud.
Fanny: Who was the figure?
John: I must have had my eyes closed, because I can’t remember.
Fanny: And yet you remember the treetops?
John: Not so well as I remember the lips.
Fanny: Whose lips? Were they my lips?
Stam
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