Princess Anna Mihalovna interposed, obviously wishing to show her connections and intimate knowledge with every detail in society.

“This is how the matter stands,” she said meaningly, speaking in a half whisper. “Count Kirill Vladimirovitch’s reputation we all know.…He has lost count of his own children, indeed, but this Pierre was his favourite.”

“How handsome the old man was,” said the countess, “only last year! A finer-looking man I have never seen.”

“Now he’s very much altered,” said Anna Mihalovna. “Well, I was just saying,” she went on, “the direct heir to all the property is Prince Vassily through his wife, but the father is very fond of Pierre, has taken trouble over his education, and he has written to the Emperor…so that no one can tell, if he dies (he’s so ill that it’s expected any moment, and Lorrain has come from Petersburg), whom that immense property will come to, Pierre or Prince Vassily. Forty thousand serfs and millions of money. I know this for a fact, for Prince Vassily himself told me so. And indeed Kirill Vladimirovitch happens to be a third cousin of mine on my mother’s side, and he’s Boris’s godfather too,” she added, apparently attaching no importance to this circumstance.

“Prince Vassily arrived in Moscow yesterday. He’s coming on some inspection business, so I was told,” said the visitor.

“Yes, between ourselves,” said the princess, “that’s a pretext; he has come simply to see Prince Kirill Vladimirovitch, hearing he was in such a serious state.”

“But, really, ma chère, that was a capital piece of fun,” said the count; and seeing that the elder visitor did not hear him, he turned to the young ladies. “A funny figure the police officer must have looked; I can just fancy him.”

And showing how the police officer waved his arms about, he went off again into his rich bass laugh, his sides shaking with mirth, as people do laugh who always eat and, still more, drink well. “Then do, please, come to dinner with us,” he said.