Gurov often went into the pavilion, and pressed Anna
Sergeyevna to have syrup and water or an ice. One did not know what
to do with oneself.

In the evening when the wind had dropped a little, they went out
on the groyne to see the steamer come in. There were a great many
people walking about the harbour; they had gathered to welcome some
one, bringing bouquets. And two peculiarities of a well-dressed
Yalta crowd were very conspicuous: the elderly ladies were dressed
like young ones, and there were great numbers of generals.

Owing to the roughness of the sea, the steamer arrived late, after
the sun had set, and it was a long time turning about before it
reached the groyne. Anna Sergeyevna looked through her lorgnette
at the steamer and the passengers as though looking for acquaintances,
and when she turned to Gurov her eyes were shining. She talked a
great deal and asked disconnected questions, forgetting next moment
what she had asked; then she dropped her lorgnette in the crush.

The festive crowd began to disperse; it was too dark to see people's
faces. The wind had completely dropped, but Gurov and Anna Sergeyevna
still stood as though waiting to see some one else come from the
steamer. Anna Sergeyevna was silent now, and sniffed the flowers
without looking at Gurov.

"The weather is better this evening," he said. "Where shall we go
now? Shall we drive somewhere?"

She made no answer.

Then he looked at her intently, and all at once put his arm round
her and kissed her on the lips, and breathed in the moisture and
the fragrance of the flowers; and he immediately looked round him,
anxiously wondering whether any one had seen them.

"Let us go to your hotel," he said softly. And both walked quickly.

The room was close and smelt of the scent she had bought at the
Japanese shop. Gurov looked at her and thought: "What different
people one meets in the world!" From the past he preserved memories
of careless, good-natured women, who loved cheerfully and were
grateful to him for the happiness he gave them, however brief it
might be; and of women like his wife who loved without any genuine
feeling, with superfluous phrases, affectedly, hysterically, with
an expression that suggested that it was not love nor passion, but
something more significant; and of two or three others, very
beautiful, cold women, on whose faces he had caught a glimpse of a
rapacious expression--an obstinate desire to snatch from life
more