at the familiar
overcoat of Alexey Alexandrovitch and a queer, rather
artless-looking overcoat with clasps.

"Alexey Alexandrovitch Karenin and Count Bezzubov," the porter
answered severely.

"Princess Myakaya guessed right," thought Stepan Arkadyevitch, as
he went upstairs. "Curious! It would be quite as well, though,
to get on friendly terms with her. She has immense influence.
If she would say a word to Pomorsky, the thing would be a
certainty."

It was still quite light out-of-doors, but in Countess Lidia
Ivanovna's little drawing room the blinds were drawn and the
lamps lighted. At a round table under a lamp sat the countess
and Alexey Alexandrovitch, talking softly. A short, thinnish
man, very pale and handsome, with feminine hips and knock-kneed
legs, with fine brilliant eyes and long hair lying on the collar
of his coat, was standing at the end of the room gazing at the
portraits on the wall. After greeting the lady of the house and
Alexey Alexandrovitch, Stepan Arkadyevitch could not resist
glancing once more at the unknown man.

"Monsieur Landau!" the countess addressed him with a softness and
caution that impressed Oblonsky. And she introduced them.

Landau looked round hurriedly, came up, and smiling, laid his
moist, lifeless hand in Stepan Arkadyevitch's outstretched hand
and immediately walked away and fell to gazing at the portraits
again. The countess and Alexey Alexandrovitch looked at each
other significantly.

"I am very glad to see you, particularly today," said Countess
Lidia Ivanovna, pointing Stepan Arkadyevitch to a seat beside
Karenin.

"I introduced you to him as Landau," she said in a soft voice,
glancing at the Frenchman and again immediately after at Alexey
Alexandrovitch, "but he is really Count Bezzubov, as you're
probably aware. Only he does not like the title."

"Yes, I heard so," answered Stepan Arkadyevitch; "they say he
completely cured Countess Bezzubova."

"She was here today, poor thing!" the countess said, turning to
Alexey Alexandrovitch. "This separation is awful for her. It's
such a blow to her!"

"And he positively is going?" queried Alexey Alexandrovitch.

"Yes, he's going to Paris. He heard a voice yesterday," said
Countess Lidia Ivanovna, looking at Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"Ah, a voice!" repeated Oblonsky, feeling that he must be as
circumspect as he possibly could in this society, where something
peculiar was going on, or was to go on, to whic