other’s hand. If he had been surer of his ground he might not have done so at all, and he would certainly not have fallen in with the prevailing liberal fad of exchanging remarks in English by way of salutation. But he was a little overawed by the rest of the male company, Controller Petrovsky, who was his host, and Lieutenant-Colonel Tabidze, the military commander of the district. Nor had he been much comforted by the cool glance Mrs Tabidze had given him on their being introduced, even though what women thought of him was of no significance. Altogether the process of settling down in his new post (he had arrived only the previous month) had proved to hold its irritations.
In his not-so-distant youth Sergei Petrovsky had often been spoken of as the handsomest man in Moscow, and even today there was a young man’s vigour in his bearing and a bloom to his complexion, though his head of tawny hair and neatly-trimmed full beard bore heavy grey streaks. With a smile that showed excellent teeth he said to the newly-arrived Theodore Markov, who had just taken a glass of vodka from a servant’s tray,
‘Throw that down and have another, my boy. These fiddling little affairs hold no more than a coffee- spoon.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said his guest, doing as he was told. ‘Your very good health.’
‘Fair fortune. Help yourself to the beluga – I really can recommend it – and then come and talk to my daughter. I’m afraid I must insist on that, out of pure self-protection. If I fail to steer an unattached young man in her direction, I never hear the end of it. – Nina, my dear, I believe I told you Mr Markov is a member of our famous Commission.’
Nina had changed into an evening gown of her favourite mauve. It left her arms bare and in so doing exposed a large number of freckles, but there was that in the rest of her appearance or in her demeanour which prevented them from being a blemish. She liked the look of Theodore’s mouth and hands and thought his slight baldness only made him seem the more mature and wise.
‘Yes, papa,’ she said. ‘Tell me, Mr Markov, what department do you work in? Or is that a secret?’
Theodore answered her smile with his own. ‘Nothing we do is a secret. That’s rather the point of us. I’m in the music section.’
‘Music?’ Nina sounded surprised but quickly corrected herself. ‘Oh, I suppose there must be a certain amount.’
‘There’s a great deal, some of it very interesting, believe me.
‘You don’t happen to play the piano by any chance, do you?’
‘I don’t exactly happen to play the piano by any chance,’ said Theodore, smiling again. ‘I play intentionally, of set purpose, and rather well. Not very well, just rather well. Well enough for you, Miss Petrovsky, I think I can safely say.’
‘Possibly. But this is wonderful. You shall play for us after dinner and let us hear some of your discoveries. Piano music- in these parts we’re lucky if we have some twice a year.’
‘I suggest perhaps your father’s permission…
‘I don’t give permissions,’ said Petrovsky. ‘I find out what is to happen and either welcome it heartily, as in this instance, or submit to it with what grace I can. I may tell you, young Markov, that your only chance of not finding yourself at that piano disappeared for ever the moment you revealed you could play it. I look forward very much to the prospect. -Nina, darling, are you sure Alexander is to honour us with his company this evening?’
‘I’m sure he said he was going to, papa. That’s as much as one can ever be sure of with him.’
‘Do you think I don’t know my own son? Not that a father’s experience is needed. The most superficial acquaintance would suffice. He knows Elizabeth is coming?’
‘You don’t seem to know that that cuts no ice with him, but I’m pretty sure he’ll turn up this time,’ said Nina, momentarily shifting her glance. ‘I’ve got a feeling he will.’
‘It may be useful to you sooner than you think, Markov, to learn that when my daughter’s mouth curls at the corners like that she has something up her sleeve.’
‘Papa! Must I give reasons for everything? Well, you mark my words: he’ll be here any minute now. He’s just preparing his entrance. You’ll see.
‘No doubt I shall. Now I’m not sure my presence at this spot is vitally necessary. Korotchenko there may need a hand – the gallant colonel has his prejudices, I’m afraid.’
Petrovsky took his leave of the two and went across to where those just mentioned stood by one of the tall windows that looked out on the south side of the house. The traces of what had been inset paintings on the ceiling and walls were too scanty for even the type of subject to be discernible, though Nina had once fancied she could see a dog in one of them. Now, against cinnamon-brown wallpaper arabesqued in gold, there hung undistinguished pictures illustrating Russian life and a few frankly rather gloomy ikons. The furniture, on the other hand, Petrovsky considered quite good – it was all Karelian except for the horse-hair sofa which his wife had been surprised to pick up locally, and the bookcase of black oak. He was proud of the Kurdistan carpet, the tiger-skin rug from the shore of the Sea of Aral and such pieces as the gold Peter the First clock on the overmantel. Its hands stood at eight minutes to one; they had stood so for an unknowable number of years before it had come into Petrovsky’s possession, but he was still proud of it.
The door opened and Alexander strode in. He made straight for the nearest group, which consisted of his mother, Mrs Tabidze, Mrs Korotchenko and Elizabeth, surnamed Cuy, the twenty-year-old girl who had been his dinner-partner a score of times and a spare female disappointed by him almost half as often. Nina watched in fascination as he greeted his mother, Mrs Tabidze and Elizabeth and turned to be introduced to Mrs Korotchenko. Theodore was talking entertainingly enough about his work with the Commission, but Nina could not help turning through a quarter of a circle and uttering a quiet but distinct snigger.
‘I seem to have failed to hold your interest,’ said her companion amiably.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Markov, I hate appearing rude to you, so much so that I’ll have to run the risk of speaking rather improperly.’
‘That doesn’t sound very unsafe to me.
‘Well – are you acquainted with Mrs Korotchenko at all?’
‘I’ve seen her in public two or three times, nothing more.
‘In that case… would you agree that she has an exceptional bosom?’
‘Well yes, I think I’d have to. A bit too exceptional for my taste.’
‘Not for Alexander’s. You don’t know him well, do you?’
‘I’ve met him twice, and liked him.’
‘I’m glad of that. Well, he wasn’t going to turn up tonight -he gets silly moods when he goes solitary to try and get attention – and then I mentioned the bosom, which I’d seen on Tuesday, and quite soon after that he said he thought he’d come after all. But what made me laugh just now was the way he absolutely made up his mind not to goggle at it when he was introduced and then goggled at it. What’s he doing now? I daren’t look.’
Theodore furtively turned his eyes. ‘Goggling at it.’
‘Oh, dear God. Is her husband watching?’
‘Just a… No, his back’s almost turned and your father’s saying something to him. It should be all right if Alexander stops goggling reasonably soon.’
‘Good. We don’t want Mr Korotchenko challenging him to a duel.’
‘He’s not the type. Far too cautious.’
‘I suppose that helps if you work under someone like Director Vanag.’
‘You sound a good deal less than fond of him.’
‘He’s a pig.’
‘What has he done?’ asked Theodore, naturally enough, for she had spoken with the heat of personal dislike.
‘I don’t know. I mean he’s done nothing to me. I see as little of him as possible. But anybody who does that job must be a pig.’
He started to say something and checked himself, noticing that Alexander, with Elizabeth Cuy at his side, was on his way to where they stood. Theodore and Nina looked at each other and went on looking, indeed stared hard. She was so sure he was about to take her hands that she drew in her breath and a blush coloured her pale cheeks.
‘Can I see you again soon?’ he asked indistinctly.
‘Of course. Of course.’
