"Well, you know you looked busier than I; but you weren't really," I said. I was a little taken aback by her asking if I knew Count Pushkin.
"Oh, yes," I said. "I know him."
This manifestly made an impression.
"What do you think of him?"
"What do I think of him? When I know you a little better, I will tell you," I said. "Doesn't he attend teas?"
"Oh! yes, but then he is—he is something—a nobleman, you know."
"Do I?"
"Yes. Didn't you hear how last spring he stopped a runaway and was knocked down and dragged ever so far? Why, his face was all bruises."
I could not help laughing at the recollection of Pushkin.
"I saw that."