Vladimir Nabokov. Un cuento de hadas : Клуб изучающих испанский языкVladimir Nabokov. Un cuento de hadas
ately. That shyness, that bold imagination. You reminded me of an innocent, though hugely endowed, young monk whom I knew in Tuscany. This is my penultimate night. Being a woman has its points, but being an aging woman is hell, if you will pardon me the expression. Moreover, I made such mischief the other day—you will soon read about it in all the papers—that I had better get out of this life. Next Monday I plan to be born elsewhere. The Si berian slut I have chosen shall be the mother of a marvelous, mon strous man."
"I see/' said Erwin.
"Well, my dear boy," continued Frau Monde, demolishing her second piece of pastry, "I intend, before going, to have a bit