Vladimir Nabokov. Un jirón de vida
Vladimir Nabokov. A SLICE OF LIFE
With a great howl she fell under the table dragging me after her while the German stumbled over us and joined us in our fall so thaf the three of us sort of got mixed up on the floor; but I had time to see a waiter rush up to the aggressor from behind and with monstrous relish and force hit him on the head with an iron ashtray. After this then was as usual in such cases the slow tidying up of the shattered world, with the participation of gapers, policemen, ambulancers. Extravagantly groaning, Lenochka (a bullet had merely gone through her fat suntanned shoulder) was driven away to the hospital, but somehow I did not