Vladimir Nabokov. La Veneciana
Vladimir Nabokov. LA VENEZIANA
When they were parting company, and Maureen nodded to him with a good-night smile, he absently, unabashedly, smiled back.
7
That night, sometime after one o'clock, the old watchman, who had once worked as groom for the Colonel's father, was, as usual, taking a short walk along the park lanes. He knew perfectly well that his duty was purely perfunctory, since the location was exceptionally peaceful. He invariably turned in at eight, the alarm