Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita, Chapter 28

Dear Dad:

How's everything? I'm married. I'm going to have a baby.  I guess
he's going to be a big one. I guess he'll come right for Christmas.
This is a hard letter to write. I'm going nuts because we don't have
enough to pay our debts and get out of here. Dick is promised a big
job in Alaska in his very specialized corner of the mechanical field,
that's all I know about it but it's really grand.  Pardon me for
withholding our home address but you may still be mad at me, and Dick
must not know. This town is something.  You can't see the morons for
the smog. Please do send us a check, dad. We could manage with three
or four hundred or even less, anything is welcome, you might sell my
old things, because once we get there the dough will just start
rolling in. Write, please. I have gone through much sadness and

Yours expecting,
DOLLY (Mrs. Richard F. Schiller)

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