Poor Anna Fedorovna blushed to her ears with confusion. She dropped her eyes, and made no reply.
"They kiss the woman in public," said the count softly, bending over to whisper in her ear. "Permit me, however, to kiss your little hand," he added almost inaudibly, after a long silence, having some pity on his lady's confusion.
"Ah! only not quite yet," urged Anna Fedorovna, with a deep sigh.
"But when, then? To-morrow I am going away early.... But really, you owe it to me."
"Well, then, of course it is impossible," said Anna Fedorovna smiling.
"Only give me a chance to see you before to-morrow, so that I may kiss your hand. I will find one."
"How will you find one?"
"That is my affair. I can do any thing to see you.... Is it agreed?"
"Agreed."
The schottische came to an end; they danced through the mazurka, and in it the count did marvels, purloining handkerchiefs, bending on one knee, and clinking his spurs in an extraordinary manner, after the Warsaw style, so that all the old men came from their boston to look into the ballroom; and the cavalryman who was the best dancer confessed himself outdone. After they had eaten supper, they danced still the gross vater, and began to disperse.