Vladimir Nabokov. El timbre
His mother gave a brusque shake of her head and resumed listening intently.
"It isn't right—" began Nikolay.
She pulled at his sleeve, whispering, "Don't you dare! I don't want to... Don't you dare...."
The bell started buzzing again, insistently and irritably this time. And it buzzed on for a long time.
"Let me go," said Nikolay. "This is silly. If somebody rings you have to answer the door. What are you frightened of?"
"Don't you dare—do you hear," she repeated, spasmodically clutching at his hand. "I implore you.... Nicky, Nick