I was in this frame of mind when Kamarowsky resolved to invite all his friends in Orel to a banquet in order to announce to them our imminent marriage.
At this banquet Naumoff also was present. Doubtless he already knew the announcement that his friend was going to make, yet when the Count rose to speak and laid his hand with a placid air of ownership upon mine, I saw Nicolas Naumoff turn pale. I watched with deep emotion the color slowly receding from his face; in its pallor his youthful countenance appeared to me still more beautiful; he looked indeed like the supreme deliverer—the angel of death.
I did not comprehend a word of Paul Kamarowsky's speech; I know that when it was ended he turned to me and placed a magnificent diamond ring upon my finger, and every one applauded and cheered.
Then the guests rose in turn to congratulate Kamarowsky, and to kiss my hand and wish me joy; and I know that I smiled and thanked them.
Naumoff alone had not left his place, but in the gay chatter and stir that surrounded us no one noticed it. He soon went away; he disappeared without taking leave of any one.
Toasts and speeches followed. The waiters came and went, carrying fruits and wines and sometimes leaving the large double doors of our dining-room open behind them.
Suddenly as I raised my eyes I saw a man standing on the threshold and gazing in at us.
It was Prilukoff.