‘The Saxon Switzerland——’ Kapitolina Markovna was beginning.
The blare of wind instruments floated up the avenue; it was the Prussian military band from Rastadt (in 1862 Rastadt was still an allied fortress), beginning its weekly concert in the pavilion. Kapitolina Markovna got up.
‘The music!’ she said; ‘the music à la Conversation!... We must go there. It’s four o’clock now ... isn’t it? Will the fashionable world be there now?’
‘Yes,’ answered Potugin: ‘this is the most fashionable time, and the music is excellent.’
‘Well, then, don’t let us linger. Tanya, come along.’
‘You allow me to accompany you?’ asked Potugin, to Litvinov’s considerable astonishment; it was not possible for it even to enter his head that Irina had sent Potugin.
Kapitolina Markovna simpered.
‘With the greatest pleasure—M’sieu ... M’sieu——’
‘Potugin,’ he murmured, and he offered her his arm.
Litvinov gave his to Tatyana, and both couples walked towards the Konversation Hall.