she was followed, looked at, and spoken to merely from a secret
motive which she could hardly fail to guess. He recalled her slender,
delicate neck, her lovely grey eyes.

"There's something pathetic about her, anyway," he thought, and
fell asleep.

II

A week had passed since they had made acquaintance. It was a holiday.
It was sultry indoors, while in the street the wind whirled the
dust round and round, and blew people's hats off. It was a thirsty
day, and Gurov often went into the pavilion, and pressed Anna
Sergeyevna to have syrup and water or an ice. One did not know what
to do with oneself.

In the evening when the wind had dropped a little, they went out
on the groyne to see the steamer come in. There were a great many
people walking about the harbour; they had gathered to welcome some
one, bringing bouquets. And two peculiarities of a well-dressed
Yalta crowd were very conspicuous: the elderly ladies were dressed
like young ones, and there were great numbers of generals.

Owing to the roughness of the sea, the steamer arrived late, after
the sun had set, and it was a long time turning about before it
reached the groyne. Anna Sergeyevna looked through her lorgnette
at the steamer and the passengers as though looking for acquaintances,
and when she turned to Gurov her eyes were shining. She talked a
great deal and asked disconnected questions, forgetting next moment
what she had asked; then she dropped her lorgnette in the crush.