Friday 12 November 2010

...of audacity

The days passed and the more keenly Albinus strained his hearing, the more daring did Rex and Margot become; they accustomed themselves to the safety curtain of his blindness, and, instead of having his meals under the adoring dumb gaze of old Emilia in the kitchen as he had done at first, Rex now contrived to sit at table with both of them. He ate with a masterly noiselessness, never touching his plate with fork or knife, and munching like a silent film diner, in perfect rhythm with Albinus's moving jaws and to the bright music of Margot's voice who purposefully talked very loudly while the men chewed and swallowed. Once he choked on a crumb: Albinus, for whom Margot was just pouring out a cup of coffee, suddenly heard at the end of the table a strange bursting sound, an ignoble sputter. Margot promptly began to chatter, but he interrupted, his hand raised: 'What was that? What was that?'

[Laughter in the Dark, Nabokov, V.]

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