Vladimir Nabokov. Un cuento de hadas
"Yes, of course," said the other in response to her sister's words. Erwin continued along the boulevard. He knew all the smart streets where the best possibilities existed.
"Three," he said to himself. "Odd number. So far so good. And if it were midnight right now—"
Swinging her handbag she was coming down the steps of the Leilla, one of the best local hotels. Her big blue-chinned companion slowed down behind her to light his cigar. The lady was lovely, hatless, bobhaired, with a fringe on her forehead that made her look like a boy