Chapter 9 Section VI

"Hey," said Joan to her husband on Saturday morning, "I've decided to tell Timofey that the house is entirely theirs to use today from two o'clock to five o'clock in the afternoon. Let's give those poor wretches every chance they can get together." .I can run some errands in town, and you can drop by the library." "Today is a coincidence," replied Lawrence. "I have no idea where to go or take a walk. Besides, they don't necessarily need eight rooms to meet." Pnin put on his brand-new brown suit (acquired with the money earned from his speech in Cremona) and walked through the snow after a hasty lunch at Eggs and Us The park, headed for the Wendell bus station, got there almost an hour early.Why was Lisa so anxious to see him on her way back from visiting St. Bartholomew's preparatory school near Boston, where her son was going to attend in the fall, that Pnin didn't bother to wonder; A wave of happiness surged behind the invisible dam that was about to burst at any moment.He saw five buses, and in each of them he seemed to see Lisa waving at the window as they filed down with the other passengers, but as everyone got out of one bus after another, he was nowhere to be seen. her trace.Suddenly there was a loud cry from behind him ("Tie Murphy, zdrastvuy!"), and he turned immediately, seeing her appearing in the "Greyhound" coach that he alone judged would not have her in it.Did our friend see any change in her?Good God, what change can there be!she is there.No matter how cold it is, she is so enthusiastic.Now she held Pnin's head tightly, and the sealskin coat was open to reveal the lace tunic underneath, and he smelled the scent of grapefruit on her neck, and kept murmuring: "Nu, nu, vot i horosho, nu vot."——just say something touching people's hearts.She exclaimed, "Whoa, he's got a nice new set of teeth!" As he helped her into a taxi, her bright sheer head scarf got caught and Pnin slipped on the pavement, The driver said "watch" and took her travel bag from him, which had happened before, in exactly the same order.

As they drove down Park Avenue she told him it was a traditional English school.No, she didn't want to eat anything, she'd had a good meal in Albany just now.It's a "fancy"--the adjective is in English--school, the kids are playing a kind of handball indoor tennis, and there's going to be a ... too excited to name a famous American, but that was neither a poet nor a president, so it meant nothing to Pnin). "Let me tell you something," put in Pnin, bowing his head and pointing, "you can see a corner of our campus from here." All this ("Oh, I see, vizhu, vizhu, kampus kak kampus: It’s all the same, nothing new”), all of which, including the children’s scholarship, was greatly helped by Dr. Bernard Meud (“You know, Tim Murphy, you should write him a letter someday. Just a thank you").The principal, a priest, showed her all the trophies Bernard had won while studying there.Of course Eric wanted Victor to go to a public school, but was refuted.At any rate, the Reverend Hopell's wife was the niece of an English earl.

"Here it is. This is my palazzo," Pnin said jokingly, never being able to fully pay attention to her chattering fast. They walked in, and he suddenly felt that the days he had been looking forward to so eagerly had passed too quickly—minute by minute, and it would be over in a while.He thought that maybe she would tell him the reason for looking for him right away, maybe this day would pass slowly, and people would really enjoy it. "What a horrible place, kakoy zhutkiy dom," she said, sitting down in the chair by the telephone and taking off her galoshes—a familiar movement! "Look at that water-colour painting of a mosque's minaret. It's disgusting! The landlord must be a queer."

"No no," said Pnin, "they're my friends." "Dear Timofey," she said, as he accompanied her upstairs, "you've had a lot of lousy friends in your life." "This is my room," said Pnin. "I think I'll rest in this pure bed of yours for a while, Timofey. I'll read you a few poems later. The old headache that plagues me is coming back, and I'll be here all day. It's all good." "I have an aspirin." "Mmm." She snorted, this habitual negative tone seemed strange in her native language. When she took off her shoes, Pnin turned his face away, and the shoes fell to the floor with two thuds, reminding him of the days long ago.

She was lying down, wearing a black dress and white blouse, with brown hair and a pink hand over her eyes. "How are you doing?" Pnin asked, sitting in the white rocking chair near the radiator. (Let her tell me what she wants to do with me, hurry up!) "Our job is fun," she said, still covering her eyes with her hand, "but I gotta tell you, I don't love Eric anymore. Our relationship is broken. Besides, Eric doesn't like his kids either." .He said he was the land daddy, and you, Timophy, were the water daddy." Pnin laughed, leaning forward and backward, the not-so-sturdy rocking chair creaked and creaked under his body.His eyes were shining like stars, and they were moist.

She looked at him wonderingly for a moment from under the fat hand, and then said: "Eric was so cruel to Victor. The kid must have killed him so many times in his nightmares. Besides, being with Eric--I figured it out--reasoning calmly, not only Instead of getting it right, he messed it up. He's a very awkward fellow. What's your salary, Timurphy?" He told her the truth. "Well," she said, "it's not much. But I reckon you can save some money anyway--it's plenty for your needs, your very meager ones, Timurphy." Her corseted belly under her black dress heaved two or three times with a silent, comfortable, kindly, nostalgic irony--while Pnin, blowing her nose and shaking her head, looked fascinated. Fascinated, joyful expression.

"Listen to me from a poem I wrote recently," she said, lying on her back with her hands at her sides, and began reciting in a drawn-out deep voice: Your glittering name! "He's a very interesting guy," she went on without pausing, "almost an Englishman, actually. He flew a bomber during the war, and now he's in a joint venture between brokers. Worked in a firm and they had no sympathy for him and didn't understand him. He was born in an old family. His father was a visionary who owned a marine playground in Florida, you know, like a casino but got some jewish thugs to wreck it, and he volunteered to go to jail for someone else. A family of heroes."

She paused.The silence in the cabin was intensified rather than broken by the throbbing and tinkling of the whitewashed radiators. "I typed a full report to Eric," Lisa sighed, then snapped, "and now he keeps assuring me that if I cooperate he can cure me. Sadly I'm also working with George." She pronounced the name George the Russian way—two gs with a strong accent, and two e's with a long sound. "Well, as Eric said, c'est la vie. Wow, there's a lot of cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, how can you sleep under here?" She looked at her watch, "Ouch, I have to catch four The bus goes back at thirty. Please call me a taxi right away. I have something very important to talk to you about."

At last it was said—belatedly. She asked Timofey to save a little money every month for the boy--because she couldn't ask Bernard Maywood now--she might die--what's the matter, Eli Ke didn't care—at least someone should send the kid some money every now and then, like it was from his mother—you know, pocket money or something—and he was going to school with rich kids.She would write to Timofey, giving him the address and some other details.Yes—Timophy was a baby, she never doubted that (“Nu kakoy zhe ti dushka”).And, oh, where's the bathroom?Can I ask him to call a taxi right now?

"By the way," she said, while he was helping her into her coat, and she frowned as usual, fumbling for the two dart armholes, "you know, Timo You don't look like a brown suit, Fee: a gentleman never wears brown." He saw her off and walked back across the park.Keep her, feed her,--she's the same--her cruelty, her vulgarity, her charming blue eyes, her bad poetry, her fat feet, her dirty, vile, dry, childish soul .He suddenly thought: If people will meet again in heaven (I don’t believe it, but let’s just say it), how can I not let that withered and flawed thing——her soul mess around in me What about climbing?However, this is the world, and it is strange that I am still alive. Life and I still have some value...

He seemed to be enlightened, quite unexpectedly (because pessimism and disappointment rarely lead to great truths), he was about to solve the mystery of the universe in a simple way, but at this time he was interrupted by an urgent request.A squirrel from under a tree saw Pnin approaching, and the clever little creature made a meandering motion of a plant's tendrils, climbed up a drinking fountain, and stood on the edge, and when Pnin approached, it made an oval towards him. His face puffed out, his cheeks puffed out, and there was a rough beeping sound from his mouth.Pu Ning understood what it meant, so he walked over and groped for a while, and found the switch that released water when pressed.The thirsty rodent looked at him contemptuously as he tasted the bubbling jet of thick water and drank for a while. "Don't it have a fever," thought Pnin, weeping to himself, keeping his hand politely pressing the wonderful switch, trying to avoid meeting his eyes with the unpleasant eyes staring at him.The squirrel quenched its thirst and ran away without showing him the slightest gratitude. The water daddy went on until he came to the end of the road and turned into a side street where there was a log cabin-style tavern with garnet-tinted windows.