Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Hungarian for bosom

. . . he found his host ensconced in a corner, looking like a lecherous Old Testament prophet in evening dress and decorations, drinking bull’s blood and trying to converse in what might have been a Balkan language with a buxom waitress in native costume.
    ‘You don’t know the Hungarian for bosom?’ he was saying. ‘Well, you ought to, of all people . . . here, I’ll show you — ah, there you are, Yankee, arriving inopportunely as usual.’

Mr American, p.517, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.

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