| PART 1
Chapter 22
 (continued)It was one of Kitty's best days.  Her dress was not
 uncomfortable anywhere; her lace berthe did not droop anywhere;
 her rosettes were not crushed nor torn off; her pink slippers
 with high, hollowed-out heels did not pinch, but gladdened her
 feet; and the thick rolls of fair chignon kept up on her head as
 if they were her own hair.  All the three buttons buttoned up
 without tearing on the long glove that covered her hand without
 concealing its lines.  The black velvet of her locket nestled
 with special softness round her neck.  That velvet was delicious;
 at home, looking at her neck in the looking glass, Kitty had felt
 that that velvet was speaking.  About all the rest there might be
 a doubt, but the velvet was delicious.  Kitty smiled here too, at
 the ball, when she glanced at it in the glass.  Her bare
 shoulders and arms gave Kitty a sense of chill marble, a feeling
 she particularly liked.  Her eyes sparkled, and her rosy lips
 could not keep from smiling from the consciousness of her own
 attractiveness.  She had scarcely entered the ballroom and
 reached the throng of ladies, all tulle, ribbons, lace, and
 flowers, waiting to be asked to dance--Kitty was never one of
 that throng--when she was asked for a waltz, and asked by the
 best partner, the first star in the hierarchy of the ballroom, a
 renowned director of dances, a married man, handsome and
 well-built, Yegorushka Korsunsky.  He had only just left the
 Countess Bonina, with whom he had danced the first half of the
 waltz, and, scanning his kingdom--that is to say, a few couples
 who had started dancing--he caught sight of Kitty, entering, and
 flew up to her with that peculiar, easy amble which is confined
 to directors of balls.  Without even asking her if she cared to
 dance, he put out his arm to encircle her slender waist.  She
 looked round for someone to give her fan to, and their hostess,
 smiling to her, took it. "How nice you've come in good time," he said to her, embracing
 her waist; "such a bad habit to be late." Bending her left hand,
 she laid it on his shoulder, and her little feet in their pink
 slippers began swiftly, lightly, and rhythmically moving over the
 slippery floor in time to the music. |