attitude she did not feel quite clear, never knowing whether he was
joking or in earnest. Grasping her hand tightly, Novikoff grew very
red, but his emotions were unnoticed by Lida, used as she was to his
reverent, bashful glance that never troubled her.

"Good evening, Vladimir Petrovitch," said the elder, handsomer and
fairer of the two officers, rigid, erect as a spirited stallion, while
his spurs clinked noisily.

Sanine knew him to be Sarudine, a captain of cavalry, one of Lida's
most persistent admirers. The other was Lieutenant Tanaroff, who
regarded Sarudine as the ideal soldier, and strove to copy everything
he did. He was taciturn, somewhat clumsy, and not so good-looking as
Sarudine. Tanaroff rattled his spurs in his turn, but said nothing.

"Yes, you!" replied Sanine to his sister, gravely.

"Why, of course I am pretty. You should have said indescribably
pretty!" And, laughing gaily, Lida sank into a chair, glancing again at
Sanine. Raising her arms and thus emphasizing the curves of her shapely
bosom, she proceeded to remove her hat, but, in so doing, let a long
hat-pin fall on the gravel, and her veil and hair became disarranged.

"Andrei Pavlovitch, do please help me!" she plaintively cried to the
taciturn lieutenant.

"Yes, she's a beauty!" murmured Sanine, thinking aloud, and never
taking his eyes off her. Once more Lida glanced shyly at her brother.

"We're all of us beautiful here," said she.