Vladimir Nabokov. El timbre
The bell stopped. It was replaced by a series of vigorous knocks, produced, it seemed, by the stout knob of a cane.
Nikolay headed resolutely for the front hall. But before he reached it his mother had grabbed him by the shoulders, and tried with all her might to drag him back, whispering all the while, "Don't you dare.... Don't you dare.... For God's sake!..."
The bell sounded again, briefly and angrily.
"It's your business," said Nikolay with a laugh and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, walked the length of the room. This is a real nightmare, he thought, and chuckled again.
The ringing had stopped. All was