such intense defiance, that Litvinov thought it his duty, stifling his wrath, to go to meet him, to face a 'scandal.' But when he was on a level with Litvinov, the general's face suddenly changed, his habitual playful refinement reappeared upon it, and his hand in its pale lavender glove flourished his glossy hat high in the air. Litvinov took off his in silence, and each went on his way.
'He has noticed something, for certain!' thought Litvinov.
'If only it were . . . any one else!' thought the general.
Tatyana was playing picquet with her aunt when Litvinov entered their room.
'Well, I must say, you 're a pretty fellow!' cried Kapitolina Markovna, and she threw down her cards. 'Our first day, and he 's lost for the whole evening! Here we 've been waiting and waiting, and scolding and scolding . . .'
'I said nothing, aunt,' observed Tatyana.
'Well, you 're meekness itself, we all know! You ought to be ashamed, sir ! and you betrothed too!'
Litvinov made some sort of excuse and sat down to the table.
'Why have you left off your game?' he asked after a brief silence.
'Well, that 's a nice question! We 've been