Synoptic Sentence View: Sentence 640
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Versions

Molloy Segment 640, version 1 (MS-HRC-SB-4-6, f. 04r)
Et quand le froid pendant et xxx l'hiver je m'enveloppe, sous mon manteau, de bandelettes de papier journal, et me ne m'en dépouille qu'au moment réveil de la terre, le vrai, au mois d'avril en avril, mois de ma naissance, soit dit en ricanant.
Molloy Segment 640, version 2 (Minuit 1951, p. 43)
Et pendant l'hiver je m'enveloppais, sous mon manteau, de bandelettes de papier journal, et je ne m'en dépouillais qu'au réveil de la terre, le vrai, en avril.
Molloy Segment 640, version 3 (Minuit 1953, p. 43)
Et pendant l'hiver je m'enveloppais, sous mon manteau, de bandelettes de papier journal, et je ne m'en dépouillais qu'au réveil de la terre, le vrai, en avril.

Molloy Segment 640, version 4 (MS-WU-MSS008-3-49, f. 33r)
And in winter, under my greatcoat, I wrapped myself in swathes of newspaper, and did not shed them until the earth awoke, for good, in April.

Molloy Segment 640, version 5 (MS-BRML-NWWR-2-38, f. 20r)
And
in winter, under my greatcoat, I wrapped myself in swathes of
newspapers, and did not shed them until the earth awoke, for good,
in April.

Molloy Segment 640, version 6 (MS-WU-MSS008-3-50-1, f. 33r)
And in winter, under my greatcoat, I wrapped myself in swathes of newspaper, and did not shed them until the earth awoke, for good, in April.
Molloy Segment 640, version 7 (Olympia 1955, p. 39)
And in winter, under my greatcoat, I wrapped myself in swathes of newspaper, and did not shed them until the earth awoke, for good, in April.
Molloy Segment 640, version 8 (Grove Press 1955, p. 39)
And in winter, under my greatcoat, I wrapped myself in swathes of newspaper, and did not shed them until the earth awoke, for good, in April.
Molloy Segment 640, version 9 (Olympia and Grove Press 1959, p. 35)
And in winter, under my greatcoat, I wrapped myself in swathes of newspaper, and did not shed them until the earth awoke, for good, in April.
Molloy Segment 640, version 10 (Minuit 1971, p. 47)
Et pendant l'hiver je m'enveloppais, sous mon manteau, de bandelettes de papier journal, et je ne m'en dépouillais qu'au réveil de la terre, le vrai, en avril.