gown with a faded kerchief at her neck, came in with a saucer of milk and set it before the kitten. The kitten started, blinked, and began lapping.

‘What a pink little tongue it has!’ remarked Zina�da, putting her head almost on the ground and peeping at it sideways under its very nose.

The kitten having had enough began to purr and move its paws affectedly. Zina�da got up, and turning to the maid said carelessly, ‘Take it away.’

‘For the kitten – your little hand,’ said the hussar, with a simper and a shrug of his strongly-built frame, which was tightly buttoned up in a new uniform.

‘Both,’ replied Zina�da, and she held out her hands to him. While he was kissing them, she looked at me over his shoulder.