The tall young man sat down presently and carefully watched Paul with his narrow, light blue eyes, which glinted and flashed all over Paul's face. Boris Ivanovitch looked at him sidelong. The red-[216]haired woman alone gazed at him openly and frankly with eyes that were almost honestly blue. [216] There was a little pause while conversation hung fire. There was nothing for this curious collection of human beings to talk about except the traveller himself, and on this subject their tongues had to be silent as long as he remained. Suddenly the door opened, and a portly man with a sallow, greasy face came quickly in. He stood still, with his hand on the panel of the door, and gave a short, quick gasp which caused Paul to look at him sharply. That form struck Paul as strangely familiar. The fat man closed the door behind him gently, and came into the centre of the room. "Mr. Aldringham," said Ivanovitch,[217] "allow me to present Monsieur Virot, who acts as manager of our estates." [217] The Frenchman's sallow and greasy countenance broke into a hideously affable smile as Paul shook hands with him. The pause which followed this introduction became so embarrassing that the lady suggested that they go in to tea; and in a cheerful dining-room Paul found himself looking curiously at the collection of tea and coffee pots, vodka decanters, bacon and eggs, and muffins and cakes, which were spread promiscuously on the clean white tablecloth. The conversation turned on many things, but for the most part upon the weather. Paul's host finished before the rest, and, pleading business, begged to be excused, and left the room. When the others of the odd little party had eaten and drunk their fill of the[218] heterogeneous meal they returned to the drawing-room and Paul saw before him a most uncomfortable evening. "A strangely assorted company," he thought, "to find here in this far-away spot." Clearly, they were all people of the world, and yet there seemed a curious restraint upon them. Paul guessed, somehow, that it was because of his presence. [218] "I trust that you will pardon me, Mademoiselle," and he turned to the lady—"but I have travelled all the way from Kieff to-day, and to-morrow morning I must rise early to
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