Petersburg superiority, there was not a trace in him, and nothing of the
officer, of the guardsman.... On the contrary, in the very freedom of
his manner there was something appealing, almost shamefaced, as though
he were begging you to overlook something. Some people's eyes are never
laughing, even at the moment of laughter; with _him_ it was the
lips that almost never changed their beautiful line, while his eyes were
almost always smiling. So we chatted for about an hour... what about I
don't remember; I remember only that I looked him straight in the face
all the while, and oh, how delightfully at ease I felt with him!

In the evening I played on the piano. He was very fond of music, and he
sat down in a low chair, and laying his curly head on his arm, he
listened intently. He did not once praise me, but I felt that he liked
my playing, and I played with ardour. Semyon Matveitch, who was sitting
near his son, looking through some plans, suddenly frowned. 'Come,
madam,' he said, smoothing himself down and buttoning himself up, as his
manner was, 'that's enough; why are you trilling away like a canary?
It's enough to make one's head ache. For us old folks you wouldn't exert
yourself so, no fear...' he added in an undertone, and again he sent me
away. Michel followed me to the door with his eyes, and got up from his
seat. 'Where are you off to? Where are you off to?' cried Semyon
Matveitch, and he suddenly laughed, and then said something more... I
could not catch his words; but Mr. Ratsch, who was present, sitting in a
corner of the drawing-room (he was always 'present,' and that time he
had brought in the plans), laughed, and his laugh reached my ears....
The same thing, or almost the same thing, was repeated the following
evening... Semyon Matveitch grew suddenly cooler to me.

Four days later I met Michel in the corridor that divided the big house
in two. He took me by the hand, and led me to a room near the