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The Real Life of Sebastian Knight :: Набоков Владимир Владимирович
Страница: 102 из 124I'm afraidyou, have put her off and if she does come – well, no matter. We shall see. Would you like to go over our domain? I think it is warmer outside than in this miserable house – que dans cette triste demeure.'
The 'domain' consisted of the garden and grove I had already noticed. It was all very still. The black branches, here and there studded with green, seemed to be listening to their own inner life. Something dreary and dull hung over the place. Earth had been dug out and heaped against a brick wall by a mysterious gardener who had gone and forgotten his rusty spade. For some odd reason I recalled a murder that had happened lately, a murderer who had, buried his victim in just such a garden as this.
Madame Lecerf was silent; then she said: 'You must have been very fond of your half-brother, if you make such a fuss about his past. How did he die? Suicide?'
'Oh, no,' I said, 'he suffered from heart-disease.'
'I thought you said he had shot himself. That would have been so much more romantic. I'll be disappointed in your book if it all ends in bed. There are roses here in summer – here, on that mud – but catch me spending the summer here ever again.'
'I shall certainly never think of falsifying his life in any way,' I said.
'Oh, all right. I knew a man who published the letters of his dead wife and distributed them among his friends. Why do you suppose the biography of your brother will interest people?'
'Haven't you ever read' – I began, when suddenly a smart-looking though rather mud-bespattered car stopped at the gate.
'Oh, bother,' said Madame Lecerf.
'Perhaps it's she,' I exclaimed.
A woman had scrambled out of the car right into a puddle.
'Yes, it's she all right,' said Madame Lecerf. 'Now you stay where you are, please.'
She ran down the path, waving her hand, and upon reaching the newcomer, kissed her and led her to the left where they both disappeared behind a clump of bushes. I espied them again a moment later when they had skirted the garden and were going up the steps. They vanished into the house. I had really seen nothing of Helene von Graun except her unfastened fur coat and bright-coloured scarf.
I found a stone bench and sat down. I was excited and rather pleased with myself for having captured my prey at last. Somebody's cane was lying on the bench and I poked the rich brown earth. I had succeeded! This very night after talking to her I would return to Paris, and…. A thought strange to the rest, a changeling, a trembling oaf, slipped in, mingling with the crowd….
The 'domain' consisted of the garden and grove I had already noticed. It was all very still. The black branches, here and there studded with green, seemed to be listening to their own inner life. Something dreary and dull hung over the place. Earth had been dug out and heaped against a brick wall by a mysterious gardener who had gone and forgotten his rusty spade. For some odd reason I recalled a murder that had happened lately, a murderer who had, buried his victim in just such a garden as this.
Madame Lecerf was silent; then she said: 'You must have been very fond of your half-brother, if you make such a fuss about his past. How did he die? Suicide?'
'Oh, no,' I said, 'he suffered from heart-disease.'
'I thought you said he had shot himself. That would have been so much more romantic. I'll be disappointed in your book if it all ends in bed. There are roses here in summer – here, on that mud – but catch me spending the summer here ever again.'
'I shall certainly never think of falsifying his life in any way,' I said.
'Oh, all right. I knew a man who published the letters of his dead wife and distributed them among his friends. Why do you suppose the biography of your brother will interest people?'
'Haven't you ever read' – I began, when suddenly a smart-looking though rather mud-bespattered car stopped at the gate.
'Oh, bother,' said Madame Lecerf.
'Perhaps it's she,' I exclaimed.
A woman had scrambled out of the car right into a puddle.
'Yes, it's she all right,' said Madame Lecerf. 'Now you stay where you are, please.'
She ran down the path, waving her hand, and upon reaching the newcomer, kissed her and led her to the left where they both disappeared behind a clump of bushes. I espied them again a moment later when they had skirted the garden and were going up the steps. They vanished into the house. I had really seen nothing of Helene von Graun except her unfastened fur coat and bright-coloured scarf.
I found a stone bench and sat down. I was excited and rather pleased with myself for having captured my prey at last. Somebody's cane was lying on the bench and I poked the rich brown earth. I had succeeded! This very night after talking to her I would return to Paris, and…. A thought strange to the rest, a changeling, a trembling oaf, slipped in, mingling with the crowd….