Vladimir Nabokov. El reencuentro
Vladimir Nabokov. THE REUNION
"I can't make it," said Lev, "I'm terribly sorry myself...."
"You're a rum fellow! Listen, get out of whatever you're doing there, and we'll be right over. The Fuchses are here too. Or else, I have an even better idea—you get yourself over here. Eh? Olya, be quiet, I can't hear. What's that?"
"I can't. I have my... I'm busy, that's all there is to it."
Leshcheyev emitted a national curse. "Good-bye," said Lev awkwardly into the already dead phone.
Now Serafim's attention had shifted from the books to a picture on the wall.
"Business call. Such a bore," said Lev with a grimace. "