Vladimir Nabokov. El Elfo Patata
It was Shock's custom to go home for dinner and change into professional tails so as to drive afterwards straight to the theater. That eve ning Nora awaited him most impatiently, quivering with evil glee. How glad she was to have now her own private secret! The image of the dwarf himself she dismissed. The dwarf was a nasty little worm. She heard the lock of the entrance door emit its delicate click. As so often happens when one has betrayed a person, Shock's face struck her as new, as almost that of a stranger. He gave her