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The Real Life of Sebastian Knight :: Набоков Владимир Владимирович
Страница: 100 из 124It looked brand new when I first saw it. But it has faded and crumbled away since. I once told a doctor that all flowers except pinks and daffodils withered if I touched them – isn't it bizarre?'
'And what did he say?'
'He said he wasn't a botanist. There used to be a Persian princess like me. She blighted the Palace Gardens,'
An elderly and rather sullen maid looked in and nodded to her mistress.
'Come along,' said Madame Lecerf. 'Vous devez mourir de faim, judging by your face.'
We collided in the doorway because she suddenly turned back as I was following her. She clutched my shoulder and her hair brushed my cheek. 'You clumsy young man,' she said, 'I have forgotten my pills.'
She found them and we went over the house in search of the dining-room. We found it at last. It was a dismal place with a bay window which had seemed to change its mind at the last moment and had made a half-hearted attempt to revert to an ordinary state. Two people drifted in silently, through different doors. One was an old lady, who, I gathered, was a cousin of Monsieur Lecerf. Her conversation was strictly limited to polite purrs when passing eatables. The other was a rather handsome man in plus-fours with a solemn face and a queer grey streak in his fair sparse hair. He never uttered a single word during the whole lunch. Madame Lecerf's manner of introducing consisted of a hurried gesture which did not bother about names. I noticed that she ignored his presence at table – that indeed he seemed to sit apart. The lunch was well cooked but haphazard. The wine, however, was quite good.
After we had clattered through the first course the blond gentleman lit a Cigarette and wandered away. He came back in a minute with an ashtray. Madam Lecerf, who had been engaged with her food, now looked at me and said:
'So you have travelled a good deal, lately? I have never been to England you know – somehow it never happened. It seems to be a dull place. On doit s'y ennuyer follement, n'est-ce-pas? And then the fogs…. And no music, no art of any sort…. This is a special way of preparing rabbit, I think you will like it.'
'By the way,' I said, 'I forgot to tell you, I've written a letter to your friend warning her I would be down here and… sort of reminding her to come.'
Madame Lecerf put down knife and fork. She looked surprised and annoyed. 'You haven't!' she exclaimed.
'But it can't do any harm, can it, or do you think – '
We finished the rabbit in silence. Chocolate cream followed.
'And what did he say?'
'He said he wasn't a botanist. There used to be a Persian princess like me. She blighted the Palace Gardens,'
An elderly and rather sullen maid looked in and nodded to her mistress.
'Come along,' said Madame Lecerf. 'Vous devez mourir de faim, judging by your face.'
We collided in the doorway because she suddenly turned back as I was following her. She clutched my shoulder and her hair brushed my cheek. 'You clumsy young man,' she said, 'I have forgotten my pills.'
She found them and we went over the house in search of the dining-room. We found it at last. It was a dismal place with a bay window which had seemed to change its mind at the last moment and had made a half-hearted attempt to revert to an ordinary state. Two people drifted in silently, through different doors. One was an old lady, who, I gathered, was a cousin of Monsieur Lecerf. Her conversation was strictly limited to polite purrs when passing eatables. The other was a rather handsome man in plus-fours with a solemn face and a queer grey streak in his fair sparse hair. He never uttered a single word during the whole lunch. Madame Lecerf's manner of introducing consisted of a hurried gesture which did not bother about names. I noticed that she ignored his presence at table – that indeed he seemed to sit apart. The lunch was well cooked but haphazard. The wine, however, was quite good.
After we had clattered through the first course the blond gentleman lit a Cigarette and wandered away. He came back in a minute with an ashtray. Madam Lecerf, who had been engaged with her food, now looked at me and said:
'So you have travelled a good deal, lately? I have never been to England you know – somehow it never happened. It seems to be a dull place. On doit s'y ennuyer follement, n'est-ce-pas? And then the fogs…. And no music, no art of any sort…. This is a special way of preparing rabbit, I think you will like it.'
'By the way,' I said, 'I forgot to tell you, I've written a letter to your friend warning her I would be down here and… sort of reminding her to come.'
Madame Lecerf put down knife and fork. She looked surprised and annoyed. 'You haven't!' she exclaimed.
'But it can't do any harm, can it, or do you think – '
We finished the rabbit in silence. Chocolate cream followed.