“Come to my wife, she does so want to see you.”

Alexey Alexandrovitch unfolded the rug in which his frozen feet were wrapped, and getting out of his carriage made his way over the snow to Darya Alexandrovna.

“Why, Alexey Alexandrovitch, what are you cutting us like this for?” said Dolly, smiling.

“I was very busy. Delighted to see you!” he said in a tone clearly indicating that he was annoyed by it. “How are you?”

“Tell me, how is my darling Anna?”

Alexey Alexandrovitch mumbled something and would have gone on. But Stepan Arkadyevitch stopped him.

“I tell you what we’ll do tomorrow. Dolly, ask him to dinner. We’ll