Vladimir Nabokov. Lik : Клуб изучающих испанский языкVladimir Nabokov. Lik
Vladimir Nabokov. LIK
ened eucalyptus tree at the end of the promenade. I know all this, he thought, I understand all this, and, in the twilight, the eucalyptus strangely resembles a big Russian birch. Can this be the end? Such an idiotic end.... I feel worse and worse.... What's happening to me?... Oh, my God!
About ten minutes passed, no more. His watch ticked on, trying tactfully not to look at him. The thought of death coincided precisely with the thought that in half an hour he would walk out onto the bright stage and say the first words of his part, aJe vous prie d'excuser, Madame, cette invasion nocturne." And these words, clearly and ele gantly engraved in his memory, seemed far more real th