when the moon is still higher. From uncle’s window you can see the whole pond. I shall be seeing it tonight.”
“But I don’t think you have any nightingales?” said the Count, very dissatisfied that the Cornet had come and prevented his ascertaining more definitely the terms of the rendezvous.
“No, but there always were until last year, when some sportsmen caught one, and this year, only last week, one began to sing beautifully, but the police-officer came to see us and his carriage-bells frightened it away. Two years ago uncle and I used to sit in the covered alley and listen to them for two hours or more at a time.”
“What is this chatterbox telling you?” said her uncle, coming up to them. “Won’t you come and have something to eat?”
After supper, during which the Count, by praising the food and by his appetite, had somewhat dissipated the ill-humour of the hostess, the officers said good night and went into their room. The Count shook hands with the uncle, and, to Anna Fyódorovna’s surprise, shook her hand also without kissing it, and also shook Lisa’s, looking straight into her eyes the while and slightly smiling his pleasant smile. This look again abashed the girl.
“He is very good-looking,” she thought, “only he thinks too much of himself.”