PART 1
Chapter 22
 
The ball was only just beginning as Kitty and her mother walked
 up the great staircase, flooded with light, and lined with
 flowers and footmen in powder and red coats.  From the rooms came
 a constant, steady hum, as from a hive, and the rustle of
 movement; and while on the landing between trees they gave last
 touches to their hair and dresses before the mirror, they heard
 from the ballroom the careful, distinct notes of the fiddles of
 the orchestra beginning the first waltz.  A little old man in
 civilian dress, arranging his gray curls before another mirror,
 and diffusing an odor of scent, stumbled against them on the
 stairs, and stood aside, evidently admiring Kitty, whom he did
 not know.  A beardless youth, one of those society youths whom
 the old Prince Shtcherbatsky called "young bucks," in an
 exceedingly open waistcoat, straightening his white tie as he
 went, bowed to them, and after running by, came back to ask Kitty
 for a quadrille.  As the first quadrille had already been given
 to Vronsky, she had to promise this youth the second.  An
 officer, buttoning his glove, stood aside in the doorway, and
 stroking his mustache, admired rosy Kitty. 
Although her dress, her coiffure, and all the preparations for
 the ball had cost Kitty great trouble and consideration, at this
 moment she walked into the ballroom in her elaborate tulle dress
 over a pink slip as easily and simply as though all the rosettes
 and lace, all the minute details of her attire, had not cost her
 or her family a moment's attention, as though she had been born
 in that tulle and lace, with her hair done up high on her head,
 and a rose and two leaves on the top of it. 
When, just before entering the ballroom, the princess, her
 mother, tried to turn right side out of the ribbon of her sash,
 Kitty had drawn back a little.  She felt that everything must be
 right of itself, and graceful, and nothing could need setting
 straight. 
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