“But her life was as cold as an attic facing north; and boredom, like a silent spider, was weaving its web in… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Boredom, that silent spider, was spinning its web in the darkness in every corner of her heart. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“But she—her life was cold as a garret whose dormer window looks on the north, and ennui, the silent spider, was weaving… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
