‘What a funny little thing!’ Zina�da was saying; ‘and its eyes are not grey, but green, and what long ears! Thank you, Viktor Yegoritch! you are very kind.’
The hussar, in whom I recognised one of the young men I had seen the evening before, smiled and bowed with a clink of his spurs and a jingle of the chain of his sabre.
‘You were pleased to say yesterday that you wished to possess a tabby kitten with long ears � so I obtained it. Your word is law.’ And he bowed again.
The kitten gave a feeble mew and began sniffing the ground.
‘It’s hungry!’ cried Zina�da. ‘Vonifaty, Sonia! bring some milk.’
A maid, in an old yellow