JК
The Real Life of Sebastian Knight :: Набоков Владимир Владимирович
Страница: 81 из 124One man in a comer was reading a newspaper. A woman in a grey shawl was sitting at the table with her cheek propped on her hand and a tear-drop on her wrist. Two or three other persons were sitting quite still on the divan. A little girl rather like the one I had seen sleeping was stroking an old dog curled up on a chair. Somebody began to laugh or gasp or something in the adjacent room, where there were more people sitting or wandering about. The boy who had met me in the hall passed carrying a glass of water and I asked him in Russian whether I might speak to Mrs Helene Grinstein.
'Aunt Elena,' he said to the back of a dark slim woman who was bending over an old man hunched up in an armchair. She came up to me and invited me to walk into a small parlour on the other side of the passage. She was very young and graceful with a small powdered face and long soft eyes which appeared to be pulled up towards the temples. She wore a black jumper and her hands were as delicate as her neck.
'Kahk eto oojahsno… isn't it dreadful?' she whispered.
I replied rather foolishly that I was afraid I had called at the wrong moment.
'Oh,' she said, 'I thought…' She looked at me. 'Sit down,' she said, 'I thought I saw your face just now at the funeral…. No? Well, you see, my brother-in-law has died and…. No, no, sit down. It has been an awful day.'
'I don't want to disturb you,' I said, 'I'd better go… I only wanted to talk to you about a relation of mine… whom I think you knew… at Blauberg… but it does not matter….
'Blauberg? I have been there twice,' she said and her face twitched as the telephone began ringing somewhere.
'His name was Sebastian Knight,' I said looking at her unpainted tender trembling lips.
'No, I have never heard that name,' she said, 'no.'
'He was half-English,' I said, 'be wrote books.'
She shook her head and then turned to the door which had been opened by the sullen boy, her nephew.
'Sonya is coming up in half an hour,' he said. She nodded and he withdrew.
In fact I did not know anyone at the hotel,' she continued. I bowed and apologized again.
'But what is your name,' she asked peering at me with her dim soft eyes which somehow reminded me of Clare. 'I think you mentioned it, but today my brain seems to be in a daze…. Ach,' she said when I had told her. 'But that sounds familiar. Wasn't there a man of that name killed in a duel in St Petersburg? Oh, your father? I see. Wait a minute. Somebody… just the other day… somebody had been recalling the case. How funny…. It always happens like that, in heaps.
'Aunt Elena,' he said to the back of a dark slim woman who was bending over an old man hunched up in an armchair. She came up to me and invited me to walk into a small parlour on the other side of the passage. She was very young and graceful with a small powdered face and long soft eyes which appeared to be pulled up towards the temples. She wore a black jumper and her hands were as delicate as her neck.
'Kahk eto oojahsno… isn't it dreadful?' she whispered.
I replied rather foolishly that I was afraid I had called at the wrong moment.
'Oh,' she said, 'I thought…' She looked at me. 'Sit down,' she said, 'I thought I saw your face just now at the funeral…. No? Well, you see, my brother-in-law has died and…. No, no, sit down. It has been an awful day.'
'I don't want to disturb you,' I said, 'I'd better go… I only wanted to talk to you about a relation of mine… whom I think you knew… at Blauberg… but it does not matter….
'Blauberg? I have been there twice,' she said and her face twitched as the telephone began ringing somewhere.
'His name was Sebastian Knight,' I said looking at her unpainted tender trembling lips.
'No, I have never heard that name,' she said, 'no.'
'He was half-English,' I said, 'be wrote books.'
She shook her head and then turned to the door which had been opened by the sullen boy, her nephew.
'Sonya is coming up in half an hour,' he said. She nodded and he withdrew.
In fact I did not know anyone at the hotel,' she continued. I bowed and apologized again.
'But what is your name,' she asked peering at me with her dim soft eyes which somehow reminded me of Clare. 'I think you mentioned it, but today my brain seems to be in a daze…. Ach,' she said when I had told her. 'But that sounds familiar. Wasn't there a man of that name killed in a duel in St Petersburg? Oh, your father? I see. Wait a minute. Somebody… just the other day… somebody had been recalling the case. How funny…. It always happens like that, in heaps.