Vladimir Nabokov. Primavera en Fialta : Клуб изучающих испанский языкVladimir Nabokov. Primavera en Fialta
Vladimir Nabokov. SPRING IN FIALTA
eaves and gasoline—the dregs of the hazy blue morning street; and as I did not yet realize the presence of that growing morbid pathos which was to embitter so my subsequent meetings with Nina, I was probably quite as collected and carefree as she was, when from the hotel I accompanied her to some office or other to trace a suitcase she had lost, and thence to the cafe where her husband was holding session with his court of the moment.
I will not mention the name (and what bits of it I happen to give here appear in decorous disguise) of that man, that Franco-Hungarian writer.... I would rather not dwell upon him at all, but I cannot help it—he is surging up from under my pen. Today one do