| Quote #4
…and then, after a few steps, I glanced back and foresaw, in an almost optical sense, as it were, what really happened an hour or so later: the three of them wearing motoring helmets, getting in, smiling and waving to me, transparent to me like ghosts, with the colour of the world shining through them, and then they were moving, receding, diminishing (Nina's last ten-fingered farewell); but actually the automobile was still standing quite motionless, smooth and whole like an egg, and Nina under my outstretched arm was entering a laurel flanked doorway, and as we sat down we could see through the window Ferdinand and Segur, who had come by another way, slowly approaching. (32)
Much of "Spring in Fialta" has been mystical, somewhat less than real. But it’s at the end of the story that the events Victor describes become more and more amazing. Notice how these mystical happenings correspond with the disruption of time – memory destroys reality in "Spring in Fialta."
| Quote #5
From afar came the sounds of music — a trumpet, a zither. Nina and I set out to wander again. The circus on its way to Fialta had apparently sent out runners: an advertising pageant was tramping by; but we did not catch its head, as it had turned uphill into a side alley: the gilded back of some carriage was receding, a man in a burnous led a camel, a file of four mediocre Indians carried placards on poles, and behind them, by special permission, a tourist's small son in a sailor suit sat reverently on a tiny pony. (39)
The repeated mentions of the circus make "Spring in Fialta" highly fatalistic. For every indication that Nina will die is a corresponding hint at the mechanism behind her death.