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"But how I remember your jeers!" continued Princess Betsy, who

took a peculiar pleasure in following up this passion to a

successful issue. "What's become of all that? You're caught, my

dear boy."

"That's my one desire, to be caught," answered Vronsky, with his

serene, good-humored smile. "If I complain of anything it's only

that I'm not caught enough, to tell the truth. I begin to lose

hope."

"Why, whatever hope can you have?" said Betsy, offended on behalf

of her friend. "Entendons nous...." But in her eyes there were

gleams of light that betrayed that she understood perfectly and

precisely as he did what hope he might have.

"None whatever," said Vronsky, laughing and showing his even rows

of teeth. "Excuse me," he added, taking an opera-glass out of her

hand, and proceeding to scrutinize, over her bare shoulder, the

row of boxes facing them. "I'm afraid I'm becoming ridiculous."