“Up comes the Grand Duchess with some ambassador or other, and, as ill-luck would have it, she begins talking to him about the new helmets. The Grand Duchess positively wanted to show the new helmet to the ambassador. They see our friend standing there.” (Petritsky mimicked how he was standing with the helmet.) “The Grand Duchess asked him to give her the helmet; he doesn’t give it to her. What do you think of that? Well, everyone’s winking at him, nodding, frowning⁠—give it to her, do! He doesn’t give it to her. He’s mute as a fish. Only picture it!⁠ ⁠… Well, the⁠ ⁠… what’s his name, whatever he was⁠ ⁠… tries to take the helmet from him⁠ ⁠… he won’t give it up!⁠ ⁠… He pulls it from him, and hands it to the Grand Duchess. ‘Here, your Highness,’ says he, ‘is the new helmet.’ She turned the helmet the other side up. And⁠—just picture it!⁠—plop went a pear and sweetmeats out of it, two pounds of sweetmeats!⁠ ⁠… He’d been storing them up, the darling!”

Vronsky burst into roars of laughter. And long afterwards, when he was talking of other things, he broke out into his healthy laugh, showing his strong, close rows of teeth, when he thought of the helmet.