Vladimir Nabokov. El cuento de Navidad
"Not I," said Novodvortsev.
The critic chuckled. "Pity. You ought to do a Christmas story. New-style."
Anton Goliy coughed into his fist. "Back home we once had—" he began in a hoarse bass, then cleared his throat again.
"I'm being serious," continued the critic, climbing into his coat. "One can devise something very clever.... Thanks, but it's already—"
"Back home," Anton Goliy said, "We once had. A teacher. Who. Took it into his head. To do a Christmas tree for the kids. On top he stuck. A red star."
"No, that won'