Many years after a profound personal loss, Humbert took a position as a professor at a small American school. Though he tried to move on, certain students unsettlingly reminded him of Lo. How sinister, isn’t it? But what can you do? That is the essence of Humbert: repulsive, outrageous, and craving things he had no right even to think about. He should have disappeared long ago, gone away, never seen the light of day again. It’s a pity he didn’t do that, but stayed on to teach. He should never have been trusted to work with young adults.

The only relief was that he hadn’t acted on these feelings. He maintained restraint, though it grew increasingly difficult.

Some female students seemed to catch his attention more than others. Their mannerisms and laughter stirred something in him he knew he should ignore. He never made inappropriate comments, though he often had to stop himself from speaking. He understood the inappropriateness of his thoughts, yet his prolonged glances alone made many uncomfortable.

You were sitting at the first desk, right in front of him, with your friend. You were doing anything but studying literature, even though you had to pass the exam. You were unlucky in that you were in a class specialising in literature and linguistics, for you had to see that creature more often than the other classes did. You laughed during lessons, whispered with your friend, and completed homework you hadn’t finished at home. Surprisingly, he never reprimanded you. Occasionally you read books not on the syllabus or sketched during his lectures. Despite sometimes rushing through assignments, he consistently gave you excellent grades — better than you felt you deserved.

It couldn’t be said that you were withdrawn. You mimicked your classmates, chatted, and laughed. That was the reason for his strange gaze, gliding from your lovely face down to your feet. You didn’t like that look.

And here we go again: you’ve been laughing at some joke for five minutes now, if not longer, and he hasn’t said a word to you. He’s just sitting there, staring at you brazenly. And what would you tell others if you wanted to complain? That he’s looking at you strangely? That’s exactly it! But who cares about looks? That’s right, no one. There’s no one to complain to, and what would you say to them anyway? They’d probably tell you off for laughing in class.

His glance was strange, it’s true. A bit like he was in love. You hated Humbert – and why on earth would you love him?

But he did tell you off.

"Girls, stop laughing!"

he snapped. But he looked sternly at your friend, and gently at you. He wasn’t saying it to you, but to her.