Vladimir Nabokov. Mademoiselle O : Клуб изучающих испанский языкVladimir Nabokov. Mademoiselle O
Vladimir Nabokov. MADEMOISELLE O
empt fails, a groggy flame squirms and ducks; then comes a second lunge, and light collapses. In that pitchy blackness I lose my bearings, my bed seems to be slowly drifting, panic makes me sit up and stare; finally my dark-adapted eyes sift out, among entoptic floaters, certain more precious blurrings that roam in aimless amnesia until, half-remembering, they settle down as the dim folds of window curtains behind which streetlights are remotely alive.
How utterly foreign to the troubles of the night were those excit-ing St. Petersburg mornings when the fierce and tender, damp and dazzling arctic spring bundled away broken ice down the sea-bright Neva! It made the roofs shine. It pai