The count burst out laughing.
The other guests seeing that
Shinshin was talking came up to listen.
Berg, oblivious of irony or indifference,
continued to explain how by exchanging
into the Guards
he had already gained a step
on his old comrades of the Cadet Corps;
how in wartime the company commander
might get killed and he,
as senior in the company,
might easily succeed to the post;
how popular he was with everyone in the regiment,
and how satisfied his father was with him.
Berg evidently enjoyed narrating all this,
and did not seem to suspect that others, too,
might have their own interests.
But all he said was so prettily sedate,
and the naivete of his youthful egotism was so obvious,
that he disarmed his hearers.
"Well, my boy,
you'll get along wherever you go-
foot or horse-
that I'll warrant," said Shinshin,
patting him on the shoulder and taking
his feet off the sofa.
Berg smiled joyously.
The count, by his guests,
went into the drawing room.
It was just the moment before a big dinner
when the assembled guests,
expecting the summons to zakuska,
avoid engaging in any long conversation
but think it necessary to move about and talk,
in order to show that they are
not at all impatient for their food.
The host and hostess look toward the door,
and now and then glance at one another,
and the visitors try to guess from these glances who,
or what,
they are waiting for- some important relation
who has not yet arrived,
or a dish that is not yet ready.