Vladimir Nabokov. Una cuestión de honor
"Who's going to make the report, Henry, you or I?" asked Mityushin, chewing on a cigarette as he jerked at his lighter with his thumb.
"You'd better do it," said Gnushke.
"We've had a very busy day," began Mityushin, goggling his baby-blue eyes at Anton Petrovich. "At exactly eight-thirty Henry, who was still as tight as a drum, and I..." "I protest," said Gnushke.
"... went to call on Mr. Berg. He was sipping his coffee. Right off we handed him your little note. Which he read. And what did he do, Henry? Yes, he burst out laughing. We waited for him to finis