Explore "In Two Moods" by Vladimir Korolenko on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I looked around in amazement. What was it? Where was I?
It seemed to me that it had suddenly become day, cold and damp. The last larches of the avenue were waving their boughs in the wind before me. Was it really only a minute since I was walking in that avenue full of visions of Urmánov, and my sympathy with him as a living and suffering man? Had that been a dream? Or was I dreaming now?