Vladimir Nabokov. Batir de alas
She smelled of chill air and perfume. Her hair looked moist. Something about her face stunned Kern.
She smiled a brilliant smile, and adjusted the black ribbon on her translucent shoulder.
"You know, I just got back. Barely had time to change and wolf down a sandwich."
Kern asked: "Don't tell me you've been skiing all this time? Why, it's completely dark out."
She gave him an intense look, and Kern realized what had astonished him: her eyes, which sparkled as if they were dusted with frost.
Isabel began gliding softly along the dovelike