Contango (Ill Wind)
“— LEON MIRSKY Leon Mirsky rode into Maramba on a white horse five days after the second earthquake had completed the ruin of the town. He was a tall, thin, and ascetic- looking person, with a face remarkable for two things—its smoke- grey, deep-set eyes, and a fair, girlish skin that even the climate of tropical South America had not yet impaired.
High-cheekboned and slender-nostriled, he had an air of rather unsure aloofness, as if he did not quite know what to make of anything; and he cer...tainly did not know what to make of the Maramba earthquake.
The only son of pre-Revolution aristocrats, he had reached the New World from Russia in 1919, after typical experiences. A little money saved from the wreck had enabled him to settle down and acquire American citizenship; and for ten fairly comfortable years, darkened only by memories, he had lived in a quiet part of New York and established a minor reputation as a poet and writer of highbrow art criticism.MoreLess
High-cheekboned and slender-nostriled, he had an air of rather unsure aloofness, as if he did not quite know what to make of anything; and he cer...tainly did not know what to make of the Maramba earthquake.
The only son of pre-Revolution aristocrats, he had reached the New World from Russia in 1919, after typical experiences. A little money saved from the wreck had enabled him to settle down and acquire American citizenship; and for ten fairly comfortable years, darkened only by memories, he had lived in a quiet part of New York and established a minor reputation as a poet and writer of highbrow art criticism.MoreLess
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