Explore "The Dream" by Émile Zola on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The sun shone brightly on the roof of the Cathedral, a fresh odour of lilacs came up from the bushes in the garden of the Bishop. Angelique smiled, as she stood there, dazzled, and as if bathed in the springtide. Then, starting as if suddenly awakened from sleep, she said:
"Father, I have no more gold thread for my work."