ment; 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.
Potugin went on talking with Kapitolina Markovna. But Litvinov walked without uttering a word; yet twice, without any cause, he smiled, and faintly pressed Tatyana's arm against his. There was a falsehood in those demonstrations, to which she made no response, and Litvinov was conscious of the lie. They did not express a mutual confidence in the close union of two souls given up to one another; they were a temporary substitute—for words which he could not find. That unspoken something which was beginning between them grew and gained strength. Once more Tatyana looked attentively, almost intently, at him.
It was the same before the Konversation Hall at the little table round which they all four seated themselves, with this sole difference, that, in the noisy bustle of the crowd, the clash and roar of the music, Litvinov's silence seemed more comprehensible. Kapitolina Markovna