Chapter 51 Section VII

I passed a sleepless night in a nice, airy, well-furnished room, the doors and windows of which were not shut properly, and I used a copy of The Selected Works of Sherlock Holmes which I always carried with me on the bedside table. I set up a desk lamp and reviewed the proofs I brought under the dim light, but even this did not alleviate my insomnia.Every two minutes or so, a truck passed by outside, rumbling and shaking the house; sometimes I dozed, and sometimes I sat up gasping for breath, the light from the street reflected on the mirror through the thin curtains, It made me dizzy, and I felt like there was a firing squad in front of me.

I am a person who has to drink the juice squeezed from three oranges before facing a stressful day at work.So, at 7:30 in the morning, I took a quick shower and was out the gate five minutes later, accompanied by the listless, long-eared sobake wich. It was cold and the sky was clear and cloudless.The empty road leads south to a gray-blue hill covered with patches of snow that is clearly visible.To my right a tall, bare aspen tree, broom brown, with a long shadow in the morning sun, stretched across the road to a crenellated, cream-colored house opposite. Well, according to Cockerell, my predecessor thought it was the Turkish consulate because he'd seen a lot of people in barrel hats go in.I turned left, downhill north, and walked two blocks to a restaurant I noticed last night; it wasn't open yet, so I had to turn back.As soon as I took two steps, a large truck full of beer rumbled past on the road, followed by a light blue car, with a white dog's head protruding from it, and behind it was another car like The truck in front is the same size.The shabby little car was piled high with boxes; it was driven by Pnin.I hurriedly called out to him, but he didn't see me. I just hoped that the red light on the street ahead would stop him there, and I would hurry uphill to stop him.

I hurriedly overtook the truck behind me, and caught a glimpse of my old friend again. He had a nervous profile, wearing a small hat with ear flaps and a windbreaker; but suddenly the green light came on, and the little white dog Probe barked a few times at Sobakwich, and then they all rushed forward—the first truck, Pnin, the second truck.I stood there watching the three cars drive away on the drive between the Moorish house and the Lombard poplar.Then the car boldly overtook the truck in front and was free at last, speeding up the glistening road, which could clearly be seen narrowing like a golden thread under the misty morning mist , the mountains in the distance are undulating and the scenery is beautiful. It is impossible to say that there will be any miracles there.

Cockerell, in a brown dressing gown and sandals, let the spaniel in first and then led me to the kitchen for a bland English breakfast of kidneys and fish. "Now," he said, "I'm going to tell you another story about Pnin: He got up to speak at the Women's Club of Cremona and realized he had brought the wrong script."