Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov [139]
“I’ll die if you touch me,” I said. “You are sure you are not coming with me? Is there no hope of your coming? Tell me only this.”
“No,” she said. “No, honey, no.”
She had never called me honey before.
“No,” she said, “it is quite out of the question. I would sooner go back to Cue. I mean”
She groped for words. I supplied them mentally (“He broke my heart. You merely broke my life”).
“I think,” she went on”oops”the envelope skidded to the floorshe picked it up”I think it’s oh utterly grand of you to give us all that dough. It settles everything, we can start next week. Stop crying, please. You should understand. Let me get you some more beer. Oh, don’t cry, I’m so sorry I cheated so much, but that’s the way things are.”
I wiped my face and my fingers. She smiled at the cadeau. She exulted. She wanted to call Dick. I said I would have to leave in a moment, did not want to see him at all, at all. We tried to think of some subject of conversation. For some reason, I kept seeingit trembled and silkily glowed on my damn retinaa radiant child of twelve, sitting on a threshold, “pinging” pebbles at an empty can. I almost saidtrying to find some casual remark”I wonder sometimes what has become of the little McCoo girl, did she ever get better?”but stopped in time lest she rejoin: “I wonder sometimes what has become of the little Haze girl...” Finally, I reverted to money matters. That sum, I said, represented more or less the net rent from her mother’s house; she said: “Had it not been sold years ago?” No (I admit I had told her this in order to sever all connections with R.); a lawyer would send a full account of the financial situation later; it was rosy; some of the small securities her mother had owned had gone up and up. Yes, I was quite sure I had to go. I had to go, and find him, and destroy him.
Since I would not have survived the touch of her lips, I kept retreating in a mincing dance, at every step she and her belly made toward me.
She and the dog saw me off. I was surprised (this a rhetorical figure, I was not) that the sight of the old car in which she had ridden as a child and a nymphet, left her so very indifferent. All she remarked was it was getting sort of purplish about the gills. I said it was hers, I could go by bus. She said don’t be silly, they would fly to Jupiter and buy a car there. I said I would buy this one from her for five hundred dollars.
“At this rate we’ll be millionnaires next,” she said to the ecstatic dog.
Carmencita, lui demandais-je... “One last word,” I said in my horrible careful English, “are you quite, quite sure thatwell, not tomorrow, of course, and not after tomorrow, butwellsome day, any day, you will not come to live with me? I will create a brand new God and thank him with piercing cries, if you give me that microscopic hope” (to that effect).
“No,” she said smiling, “no.”
“It would have made all the difference,” said Humbert Humbert.
Then I pulled out my automaticI mean, this is the kind of fool thing a reader might suppose I did. It never even occurred to me to do it.
“Good by-aye!” she changed, my American sweet immortal dead love; for she is dead and immortal if you are reading this. I mean, such is the formal agreement with the so-called authorities.
Then, as I drove away, I heard her shout in a vibrant voice to her Dick; and the dog started to lope alongside my car like a fat dolphin, but he was too heavy and old, and very soon gave up.
And presently I was driving through the drizzle of the dying day, with the windshield wipers in full action but unable to cope with my tears.
30
Leaving as I did Coalmont around four in the afternoon (by Route XI do not remember the number(, I might have made Ramsdale by dawn had not a short-cut tempted me. I