No one in the house of the retired lieutenant of guards, Stahov, had
ever seen him so sour, and at the same time so self-confident and
important as on that day. He walked into the drawing-room in his
overcoat and hat, with long deliberate stride, stamping with his
heels; he approached the looking-glass and took a long look at himself,
shaking his head and biting his lips with imperturbable severity. Anna
Vassilyevna met him with obvious agitation and secret delight (she
never met him otherwise); he did not even take off his hat, nor greet
her, and in silence gave Elena his doe-skin glove to kiss. Anna
Vassilyevna began questioning him about the progress of his cure; he
made her no reply. Uvar Ivanovitch made his appearance; he glanced at
him and said, 'bah!' He usually behaved coldly and haughtily to
Uvar Ivanovitch, though he acknowledged in him 'traces of the true
Stahov blood.' Almost all Russian families of the nobility are
convinced, as is well known, of the existence of exceptional
hereditary characteristics, peculiar to them alone; we have more than
once heard discussions 'among ourselves' of the Podsalaskinsky
'noses,' and the 'Perepreyevsky' necks. Zoya came in and sat down
facing Nikolai Artemyevitch. He grunted, sank into an armchair, asked
for coffee, and only then took off his hat. Coffee was brought him; he
drank a cup, and looking at everybody in turn, he growled between his
teeth, '_Sortes, s'il vous plait_,' and turning to his wife he added,
'_et vous, madame, restez, je vous prie_.'

They all left the room, except Anna Vassilyevna. Her head was
trembling with agitation. The solemnity of Nikolai Artemyevitch's
preparations impressed her. She was expecting something extraordinary.