Free Laughter in the Dark by Vladimir Nabokov, John Banville Page A

Otto quietly. “Oh, we know all about you. Engaged! That’s a good one.”
    Margot beamed suddenly and whispered with lowered eyelashes:
    “All right, I’ll get it. Is that all? Can I go now?”
    “Good girl. But what’s the hurry? Besides, we ought to see a little more of one another. How about taking a trip to the lake one day, eh?” He turned to his friends. “What larks we used to have! She ought not to give herself such airs, ought she?”
    But Margot had already risen to her feet and was emptying her glass, standing.
    “Noon tomorrow, at the same corner,” said Otto, “and then we’ll drive out for the whole day. Agreed?”
    “Agreed,” said Margot brightly. She shook hands all round and went out.
    She returned home and when Albinus put down his paper and rose to meet her, she tottered and pretended to faint. It was an indifferent performance, but it worked. He was thoroughly frightened, made her comfortable on the couch, brought her some water.
    “What’s the matter? Do tell me,” he kept repeating, as he stroked her hair.
    “Now you’ll leave me,” groaned Margot.
    He gulped and immediately leaped to the worst conclusion: she had been unfaithful to him.
    “Good. Then I’ll kill her,” he thought swiftly. But aloud he repeated quite calmly: “What’s the matter, Margot?”
    “I have deceived you,” she whimpered.
    “She must die,” thought Albinus.
    “I’ve deceived you terribly, Albert. First of all, my father is not an artist; he used to be a locksmith, and now he’s a porter; my mother polishes the banisters, and my brother’s a common workman. I had a hard, hard childhood. I was flogged, tortured.”
    Albinus felt exquisite relief, and then a flood of pity.
    “No, don’t kiss me. You must know all. I escaped from home. I earned money as a model. A terrible old woman exploited me. Then I had a love affair. He was married like you, and his wife wouldn’t divorce him, so I left him, as I could not bear to be only his mistress—although I loved him madly. Then I was pestered by an old banker. He offered his whole fortune to me, but of course I refused him. He died of a broken heart. Then I took that job at the ‘Argus.’ ”
    “Oh, my poor, poor, hunted little bunny,” murmured Albinus (who, incidentally, had long ceased to believe that he was her first lover).
    “And you really don’t despise me?” she asked, smiling through her tears, which was difficult, seeing there were no tears to smile through. “I’m so glad you don’t despise me. But now let me tell you the most terrible part: my brother has found out where I live, I met him today and he demands money—trying to blackmail me, because he thinks you know nothing—about my past, I mean. You see, when I saw him and thought what a disgrace it was to have such a brother and then when I thought that my sweet trusting woggy had no idea what my family was like—youknow I was so ashamed of them, and because I had not told you the truth, too …”
    He took her up in his arms and rocked her to and fro; he would have crooned a lullaby had he known one. She began to laugh softly.
    “What’s to be done about it?” he asked. “I’ll be afraid to let you go out alone now. Shall we tell the police?”
    “No, not that,” exclaimed Margot with extraordinary emphasis.

11
    N EXT day for the first time Albinus accompanied her when she went out. She wanted many light frocks and bathing things and pounds of cream that would help the sun to bronze her. Solfi, the Adriatic resort which Albinus had selected for their first trip together, was a hot and dazzling place. As they were getting into a cab, she noticed her brother standing on the other side of the street, but she did not point him out to Albinus.
    Showing himself with Margot made him acutely uncomfortable; he could not get used to his new position. When they returned, Otto had vanished. Margot rightly supposed that he was very hurt and would now act injudiciously.
    Two