The Count did not even add up his winnings, but rose immediately the game was over, went over to the window near which Lisa, setting the table for supper, was turning pickled mushrooms out of a jar on to a plate and arranging the zakoúska , and there quite quietly and simply did what the Cornet had all that evening so longed but failed to do⁠—he entered into conversation with her about the weather.

Meanwhile the Cornet was in a very unpleasant position. In the absence of the Count, and especially of Lisa, who had been keeping her in good humour, Anna Fyódorovna became frankly angry.

“Really it is too bad that we have won from you in this way,” said Pólozof, in order to say something; “it is a real shame!”

“Well, of course, if you go and invent some kind of ‘tables’ and ‘ misères ’! I don’t know how to play them.⁠ ⁠… Well then, how much does it come to in ‘assignations’?” she asked.