What I heard then was the melody of children at play. Nothing but that. And I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita's absence from my side, but the absence of her voice from that chorus.
Like mother, like daughter. It reminds me of Death in Venice. It's a longing for youth and beauty. I never understood why women's foot are sexual to men. I sympathize Humbert in the end. There are all forms of love. He just loved Lolita a lot.