'It's hungry!' cried Zinaida. 'Vonifaty, Sonia! bring some milk.'
A maid, in an old yellow gown with a faded kerchief at her neck, came in with a saucer of milk and set it before the kitten. The kitten started, blinked, and began lapping.
'What a pink little tongue it has!' remarked Zinaida, putting her head almost on the ground and peeping at it sideways under its very nose.
The kitten having had enough began to purr and move its paws affectedly. Zinaida got up, and turning to the maid said carelessly, 'Take it away.'
'For the kitten – your little hand,' said the hussar, with a simper and a shrug of his strongly-built frame, which was tightly buttoned up in a new uniform.
'Both,' replied Zinaida, and she held out her hands to him. While he was kissing them, she looked at me over his shoulder.
I stood stockstill in the same place and did not know whether to laugh, to say something, or to be silent. Suddenly through the open door into the passage I caught sight of our footman, Fyodor. He was making signs to me. Mechanically I went out to him.
'What do you want?' I asked.
'Your mamma has sent for you,' he said in a whisper. 'She is angry that you have not come back with the answer.'
'Why, have I been here long?'