Vladimir Nabokov. De horas y mareas
Vladimir Nabokov. TIME AND EBB
I told him to go away.
When my final splutter had petered out, he said, "I go away, but please remember, in this country—" and he shook his bent finger at me sidewise, German fashion, in facetious reproof.
Before I could decide where to hit him, he had glided out. I was trembling all over. My inefficiency, which at times has amused me and even pleased me in a subtle way, now appeared atrocious and base. All of a sudden I caught sight of Dr. Shoe's hat on a heap of old magazines under the little telephone table in my hal