Vladimir Nabokov. Batir de alas : Клуб изучающих испанский языкVladimir Nabokov. Batir de alas
rough the hall, tangling themselves about the dancers. One of the musicians stuck on a white mustache, and for some reason Kern felt ashamed for him. When the dance was over he abandoned his partner and rushed off in search of Isabel. She was nowhere to be seen—not at the buffet nor on the staircase.
That's it—bedtime, was Kern's terse thought.
Back in his room he held the drape aside before lying down, and, without thinking, looked into the night. Reflections of windows lay on the dark snow in front of the hotel. In the distance, the metallic summits floated in a funereal radiance.
He had the sensation he had glanced into death. He pulled the folds together tightly so that not a