whole drawing-room knew that he had just been kissed and
embraced by a woman. He shrank into himself and looked uneasily
about him, but as he became convinced that people were dancing and
talking as calmly as ever, he gave himself up entirely to the new
sensation which he had never experienced before in his life. Something
strange was happening to him. . . . His neck, round which soft,
fragrant arms had so lately been clasped, seemed to him to be
anointed with oil; on his left cheek near his moustache where the
unknown had kissed him there was a faint chilly tingling sensation
as from peppermint drops, and the more he rubbed the place the more
distinct was the chilly sensation; all over, from head to foot, he
was full of a strange new feeling which grew stronger and stronger
. . . . He wanted to dance, to talk, to run into the garden, to laugh
aloud. . . . He quite forgot that he was round-shouldered and
uninteresting, that he had lynx-like whiskers and an "undistinguished
appearance" (that was how his appearance had been described by some
ladies whose conversation he had accidentally overheard). When Von
Rabbek's wife happened to pass by him, he gave her such a broad and
friendly smile that she stood still and looked at him inquiringly.

"I like your house immensely!" he said, setting his spectacles
straight.

The General's wife smiled and said that the house had belonged to
her father; then she asked whether his parents were living, whether
he had long been in the army, why he was so thin, and so on. . . .
After receiving answers to her questions, she went on, and after
his conversation with her his smiles were more friendly than ever,
and he thought he was surrounded by splendid people. . . .

At supper Ryabovitch ate mechanically everything offered him, drank,
and without listening to anything, tried to understand what had
just happened to him. . . . The adventure was of a mysterious and
romantic character, but it was not difficult to explain it. No doubt
some girl or young married lady had arranged a tryst with some one
in the dark room; had waited a long time, and being nervous and
excited had taken Ryabovitch for her hero; this was the more probable
as Ryabovitch had stood still hesitating in the dark room, so that
he, too, had seemed like a person expecting something. . . . This
was how Ryabovitch explained to himself the kiss he had received.

"And who is she?" he wondered, looking round at the women's fac