es.
"She must be young, for elderly ladies don't give rendezvous. That
she was a lady, one could tell by the rustle of her dress, her
perfume, her voice. . . ."

His eyes rested on the lilac young lady, and he thought her very
attractive; she had beautiful shoulders and arms, a clever face,
and a delightful voice. Ryabovitch, looking at her, hoped that she
and no one else was his unknown. . . . But she laughed somehow
artificially and wrinkled up her long nose, which seemed to him to
make her look old. Then he turned his eyes upon the fair girl in a
black dress. She was younger, simpler, and more genuine, had a
charming brow, and drank very daintily out of her wineglass.
Ryabovitch now hoped that it was she. But soon he began to think
her face flat, and fixed his eyes upon the one next her.

"It's difficult to guess," he thought, musing. "If one takes the
shoulders and arms of the lilac one only, adds the brow of the fair
one and the eyes of the one on the left of Lobytko, then . . ."

He made a combination of these things in his mind and so formed the
image of the girl who had kissed him, the image that he wanted her
to have, but could not find at the table. . . .

After supper, replete and exhilarated, the officers began to take
leave and say thank you. Von Rabbek and his wife began again
apologizing that they could not ask them to stay the night.

"Very, very glad to have met you, gentlemen," said Von Rabbek, and
this time sincerely (probably because people are far more sincere
and good-humoured at speeding their parting guests than on meeting
them). "Delighted. I hope you will come on your way back! Don't
stand on ceremony! Where are you going? Do you want to go by the
upper way? No, go across the garden; it's nearer here by the lower
way."

The officers went out into the garden. After the bright light and
the noise the garden seemed very dark and quiet. They walked in
silence all the way to the gate. They were a little drunk, pleased,
and in good spirits, but the darkness and silence made them thoughtful
for a minute. Probably the same idea occurred to each one of them
as to Ryabovitch: would there ever come a time for them when, like
Von Rabbek, they would have a large house, a family, a garden--
when they, too, would be able to welcome people, even though
insincerely, feed them, make them drunk and contented?

Going out of the garden gate, they all began talking at once and
laughing loudly about nothing