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"After dinner there's no credit in them? Well, then, I'll make

you some coffee, so go and wash and get ready," said the

baroness, sitting down again, and anxiously turning the screw in

the new coffee pot. "Pierre, give me the coffee," she said,

addressing Petritsky, whom she called Pierre as a contraction of

his surname, making no secret of her relations with him. "I'll

put it in."

"You'll spoil it!"

"No, I won't spoil it! Well, and your wife?" said the baroness

suddenly, interrupting Vronsky's conversation with his comrade.

"We've been marrying you here. Have you brought your wife?"

"No, baroness. I was born a Bohemian, and a Bohemian I shall

die."

"So much the better, so much the better. Shake hands on it."

And the baroness, detaining Vronsky, began telling him, with many

jokes, about her last new plans of life, asking his advice.