Suddenly there was a sound of voices and steps in the corridor, a jingling of spurs, quite gentle and elegant, like that of young officers. The sound came nearer and halted at the door. He rose promptly. Someone was knocking at the door, first tapping with knuckles and then banging with their fists, and a woman's voice called out:
»Give me a handkerchief,« she said, without looking at him, and put her hand out. She rubbed her face hard, blew her nose noisily, threw the handkerchief on his knees, and went to the door. He watched and waited. On her way to the door she turned out the light, and it was all at once so dark that he could hear his own rather laboured breathing. And for some reason he sat down again on the creaking bed.
»Well? What is it? What do you want?« she asked through the door, without opening it, her voice calm, but still betraying some uneasiness.
Feminine voices were heard in argument and, cutting through them as scissors cut through a tangle of silk, a male voice, young, persuasive, seeming to proceed from behind strong white teeth and a soft moustache. Spurs jingled as though the speaker were responding with a bow. And--strange!--Liuba smiled.
»No. No! I don't want to come--Very well, do as you like. No, not for all your 'lovely Liubas'. I won't come.« Another knock at the door, laughter, a sound of scolding, more jingling of spurs, and it all moved away from the door, and died out somewhere down the corridor. In the dark, fumbling for his knee with her hand, Liuba sat down by him, but did not lay her head on his shoulder. She explained briefly:
»The officers are starting a dance. They are summoning everybody. They are going to have a cotillion.«
»Liuba,« he said, pleadingly, »please turn on the light. Don't be angry.«
She got up without a word and switched it on. And now she no longer sat with him but, as before, on the chair facing the bed. Her face was surly, uninviting, but courteous--like that of a hostess who cannot help sitting through an uninvited and overlong visit.
»I wondered just now when you laughed so merrily.«
»When I feel merry, I laugh. But you can't leave just now. You'll have to wait until the officers get away. It won't be long.«
»Very well. I will wait, thank you, Liuba.«