Man From the USSR & Other Plays by Vladimir Nabokov Read Free Book Online Page B

frozen motionless over there in the form of a pouf, over here in that of an enormous plate stuck to the peony design of the wallpaper and giving birth to several smaller ones all over the back wall. The window is ajar—it is a bright, spring afternoon. A very badly
played violin is audible outside. Olga Pavlovna, busy with her embroidery, listens now and then and smiles. The violin gives one last whine, sobs and falls silent. A pause. Then, beyond the door, Kuznetsoff’s voice inquires,
“Wo ist mein 3 Frau?”
and the maid’s irritable voice replies,
“Da—nächste Tür.”
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
(drops everything, runs to the door, opens it)

Alyosha, I’m in here. Come here.
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
(enters, with his raincoat over his arm)

Hello. What do you think you’re doing sitting in someone else’s room?
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
Marianna doesn’t mind. And they’re doing my room—I got up late. Put down your coat.
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    And where did she go?
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    I really don’t know. Off somewhere. I don’t know. Alyosha, it’s already been four days, but I simply can’t get used to the idea that you’re in Berlin, and come to visit me—
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
(walking to and fro, picking up a framed photograph from a side table)

It’s hot in here and it reeks of perfume. Who is this character?
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    â€”that I no longer have to wait for your letters, wonder where you are and whether or not you’re alive....
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    Her husband, is it?
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    Yes, I think so. I don’t know him. Sit somewhere. You can’t imagine how enormous Russia seems to me when you disappear into it.
(laughs)
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    Nonsense. Actually I only stopped by for a moment. I still have loads of things to do.
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    Oh, sit down for a little while. Please....
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    I’ll drop by to see you again later. And I’ll take a nap.
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    Can’t you stay ten minutes? I have something to tell you. Something very amusing. But I’m a little embarrassed because I didn’t tell you as soon as you arrived....
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    What is it?
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    Last Monday about nine o’clock—the same day you arrived—I was walking home and saw you ride by in a taxi with a suitcase. So I knew you were in Berlin, and didn’t know my address. I was terribly happy you’d arrived, but at the same time it was torture for me. I rushed over to the street where I used to live, and the concierge there told me you’d just stopped by and that he didn’t know where to direct you. I’ve changed addresses so many times since....It was all very stupid. Then I went home, forgot a package in the tram on the way, and began waiting. I knew you’d find me right away through Taubendorf. Still, it was very hard waiting. You only came after ten—
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    Listen, Olya—
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    And left immediately. And you’ve only been to see me once since and then only for a moment.
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    Listen, Olya: when I decided it was best we didn’t live together, you agreed with me, and said you weren’t in love with me anymore either. But when you talk like you’re talking now, I begin to think—no, let me finish—I begin to think you wouldn’t mind reviving that love. It would bother me a lot if it turned out that, in spite of our decision, you still feel differently about me than I do about you.
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    I can’t talk about it today. Let’s not. I thought I’d make you laugh with the story about the package.
    Â 
    KUZNETSOFF
    No, I want to clear this up....
    Â 
    OLGA PAVLOVNA
    It’s just that kind of day today.... Anyway, there are lots of things you are incapable of understanding. Imagine, say, the sound of a bad violin outside the window—just a moment