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She knew that feeling and knew its signs, and saw them in Anna;

saw the quivering, flashing light in her eyes, and the smile of

happiness and excitement unconsciously playing on her lips, and

the deliberate grace, precision, and lightness of her movements.

"Who?" she asked herself. "All or one?" And not assisting the

harassed young man she was dancing with in the conversation, the

thread of which he had lost and could not pick up again, she

obeyed with external liveliness the peremptory shouts of

Korsunsky starting them all into the grand rond, and then into

the chaine, and at the same time she kept watch with a growing

pang at her heart. "No, it's not the admiration of the crowd has

intoxicated her, but the adoration of one. And that one? can it

be he?" Every time he spoke to Anna the joyous light flashed into

her eyes, and the smile of happiness curved her red lips. She

seemed to make an effort to control herself, to try not to show

these signs of delight, but they came out on her face of

themselves. "But what of him?" Kitty looked at him and was filled

with terror. What was pictured so clearly to Kitty in the mirror

of Anna's face she saw in him.