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"You ought to like her. She raves about you. Yesterday she came

up to me after the races and was in despair at not finding you.

She says you're a real heroine of romance, and that if she were a

man she would do all sorts of mad things for your sake. Stremov

says she does that as it is."

"But do tell me, please, I never could make it out," said Anna,

after being silent for some time, speaking in a tone that showed

she was not asking an idle question, but that what she was asking

was of more importance to her than it should have been; "do tell

me, please, what are her relations with Prince Kaluzhsky, Mishka,

as he's called? I've met them so little. What does it mean?"

Betsy smiled with her eyes, and looked intently at Anna.

"It's a new manner," she said. "They've all adopted that manner.

They've flung their caps over the windmills. But there are ways

and ways of flinging them."

"Yes, but what are her relations precisely with Kaluzhsky?"