His lawyer; my good friend and relation; Clarence Choate Clark; Esq.; now of the District of Columbia bar; in asking me to edit the manuscript; based his request on a clause in his clients will which empowered my eminent cousin to use his discretion in all matters pertaining to the preparation of Lolita for print. Mr. Clarks decision may have been influenced by the fact that the editor of his choice had just been awarded the Poling Prize for a modest work (Do the Senses make Sense?) wherein certain morbid states and perversions had been discussed. This book is about Lolita; and now that I have reached the part which (had I not been forestalled by another internal combustion martyr) might be called “Dolor?s Disparue,” there would be little sense in analyzing the three empty years that followed. While a few pertinent points have to be marked, the general impression I desire to convey is of a side door crashing open in lifes full flight, and a rush of roaring black time drowning with its whipping wind the cry of lone disaster.
ALOIS NEBEL 
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