Françoise Sagan. Whether you love Brahms? (№ 304862)

She was just afraid, she instinctively waited for him to come and forced her to accept his love. She was unbearable and monotonous for winter days, a string of all the same streets that caused her a lone to get to and from work, this phone is a traitor - she every time regretted the phone off the hook: so alienated and ashamed voice was face, and, finally, longing for the distant summer that will never return, - all led to indifferent lethargy and demanded at any price that "something happened."