JК
The Real Life of Sebastian Knight :: Набоков Владимир Владимирович
Страница: 104 из 124As I sat down I clumsily jolted his elbow and he let drop a tiny screw.
'Boga radi,' he said (don't mention it) as I apologized.
(Oh, he was Russian, was he? Good, that would help me.)
The lady stood with her back to us, humming gently, her foot tapping the stone flags.
It was then that I turned to my silent compatriot who was ogling his broken watch.
'Ah-oo-neigh na-sheiky pah-ook,' I said softly.
The lady's hand flew up to the nape of her neck, she turned on her heel.
'Shto?' (what?) asked my slow-minded compatriot, glancing at me. Then he looked at the lady, grinned uncomfortably and fumbled with his watch.
'J'ai quelque chose dans le cou…. There's something on my neck, I feel it,' said Madame Lecerf.
'As a matter of fact,' I said, 'I have just been telling this Russian gentleman that I thought there was a spider on your neck. But I was mistaken, it was a trick of light.'
'Shall we put on the gramophone?' she asked brightly.
'I'm awfully sorry,' I said, 'but I think I must be going home. You'll excuse me won't you?'
'Mais vous кtes fou,' she cried, 'you are mad, don't you want to see my mend?'
'Another time perhaps,' I said soothingly, 'another time.'
'Tell me,' she said following me into the garden, 'what is the matter?'
'It was very clever of you,' I said, in our liberal grand Russian language, 'it was very clever of you to make me believe you were talking about your friend when all the time you were talking about yourself. This little hoax would have gone on for quite a long time if fate had not pushed your elbow, and now you've spilled the curds and whey. Because I happen to have met your former husband's cousin, the one who could write upside down. So I made a little test. And when you subconsciously caught the Russian sentence I muttered aside….' No, I did not say a word of all this. I just bowed myself out of the garden. She will be sent a copy of this book and will understand.
18
That question which I had wished to ask Nina remained unuttered. I had wished to ask her whether she ever realized that the wan-faced man, whose presence she had found so tedious, was one of the most remarkable writers of his time. What was the use of asking! Books mean nothing to a woman of her kind; her own life seems to her to contain the thrills of a hundred novels. Had she been condemned to spend a whole day shut up in a library, she would have been found dead about noon.
'Boga radi,' he said (don't mention it) as I apologized.
(Oh, he was Russian, was he? Good, that would help me.)
The lady stood with her back to us, humming gently, her foot tapping the stone flags.
It was then that I turned to my silent compatriot who was ogling his broken watch.
'Ah-oo-neigh na-sheiky pah-ook,' I said softly.
The lady's hand flew up to the nape of her neck, she turned on her heel.
'Shto?' (what?) asked my slow-minded compatriot, glancing at me. Then he looked at the lady, grinned uncomfortably and fumbled with his watch.
'J'ai quelque chose dans le cou…. There's something on my neck, I feel it,' said Madame Lecerf.
'As a matter of fact,' I said, 'I have just been telling this Russian gentleman that I thought there was a spider on your neck. But I was mistaken, it was a trick of light.'
'Shall we put on the gramophone?' she asked brightly.
'I'm awfully sorry,' I said, 'but I think I must be going home. You'll excuse me won't you?'
'Mais vous кtes fou,' she cried, 'you are mad, don't you want to see my mend?'
'Another time perhaps,' I said soothingly, 'another time.'
'Tell me,' she said following me into the garden, 'what is the matter?'
'It was very clever of you,' I said, in our liberal grand Russian language, 'it was very clever of you to make me believe you were talking about your friend when all the time you were talking about yourself. This little hoax would have gone on for quite a long time if fate had not pushed your elbow, and now you've spilled the curds and whey. Because I happen to have met your former husband's cousin, the one who could write upside down. So I made a little test. And when you subconsciously caught the Russian sentence I muttered aside….' No, I did not say a word of all this. I just bowed myself out of the garden. She will be sent a copy of this book and will understand.
18
That question which I had wished to ask Nina remained unuttered. I had wished to ask her whether she ever realized that the wan-faced man, whose presence she had found so tedious, was one of the most remarkable writers of his time. What was the use of asking! Books mean nothing to a woman of her kind; her own life seems to her to contain the thrills of a hundred novels. Had she been condemned to spend a whole day shut up in a library, she would have been found dead about noon.