Vladimir Nabokov. El timbre
Tall, thin, bright blue, she stopped in front of him and now, in the full light, he saw how much she had aged, how insistently the wrinkles on her cheeks and forehead showed through the make-up. And thai awful bleached hair!...
"You came tumbling in so suddenly," she said and, biting her lips, she consulted a small clock standing on the shelf. "Like snow out of a cloudless sky... It's fast. No, it's stopped. I'm having company to night, and here you arrive.