no help for it! There were days, but they are over. Here I am, an excellency, and a poor honour it is with nothing to eat!’

My father made her a respectful bow and escorted her to the door of the hall. I was standing there in my short jacket, staring at the floor, like a man under sentence of death. Zina�da’s treatment of me had crushed me utterly. What was my astonishment, when, as she passed me, she whispered quickly with her former kind expression in her eyes: ‘Come to see us at eight, do you hear, be sure� .’ I simply threw up my hands, but already she was gone, flinging a white scarf over her head.