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Yazar: Adam Mickiewicz

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He ran about the whole house and searched for the room that had
been his own when he was a child, ten years before. He entered,
drew back, and surveyed the walls with astonished eyes: could
this room be a woman's lodgings? Who could live here? His old
uncle was unmarried, and his aunt had dwelt for years in St.
Petersburg. Could that be the housekeeper's chamber? A piano? On
it music and books; all abandoned in careless confusion: sweet
disorder!

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