n, of course, but now..."

And he went towards Praskovya Ivanovna.

But she scarcely turned her head towards him, though she had been
completely overwhelmed by his first appearance. Now she had fresh
anxieties to think of; at the moment the captain had stumbled upon
Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch as he was going out, Liza had suddenly begun
laughing--at first quietly and intermittently, but her laughter grew
more and more violent, louder and more conspicuous. She flushed crimson,
in striking contrast with her gloomy expression just before.

While Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch was talking to Varvara Petrovna, she had
twice beckoned to Mavriky Nikolaevitch as though she wanted to whisper
something to him; but as soon as the young man bent down to her, she
instantly burst into laughter; so that it seemed as though it was at
poor Mavriky Nikolaevitch that she was laughing. She evidently tried to
control herself, however, and put her handkerchief to her lips.
Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch turned to greet her with a most innocent and
open-hearted air.

"Please excuse me," she responded, speaking quickly. "You... you've seen
Mavriky Nikolaevitch of course.... My goodness, how inexcusably tall you
are, Mavriky Nikolaevitch!"

And laughter again, Mavriky Nikolaevitch was tall, but by no means
inexcusably so.

"Have... you been here long?" she muttered, restraining herself again,
genuinely embarrassed though her eyes were shining.

"More than two hours," answered Nicolas, looking at her intently. I may
remark that he was exceptionally reserved and courteous, but that apart
from his courtesy his expression was utterly indifferent, even listless.

"And where are you going to stay?"

"Here."

Varvara Petrovna, too, was watching Liza, but she was suddenly struck by
an idea.

"Where have you been all this time, Nicolas, more than two hours?" she
said, going up to him. "The train comes in at ten o'clock."

"I first took Pyotr Stepanovitch to Kirillov's. I came across Pyotr
Stepanovitch at Matveyev (three stations away), and we travelled
together."

"I had been waiting at Matveyev since sunrise," put in Pyotr
Stepanovitch. "The last carriages of our train ran off the rails in the
night, and we nearly had our legs broken."

"Your legs broken!" cried Liza. "Maman, maman, you and I meant to go to
Matveyev last week, we should have broken our legs too!"

"Heaven have mercy on us!" cried Praskovya Ivanovna, crossing herself.

"Maman, maman