_"Mon ami,"_ said Lidia Ivanovna, carefully holding the folds of her silk gown so as not to rustle, and in her excitement calling Karenin not Alexey Alexandrovitch, but _"mon ami," "donnez-lui la main.

Vous voyez? Sh!"_ she hissed at the footman as he came in again.

" Not at home.

" The Frenchman was asleep, or pretending to be asleep, with his head on the back of his chair, and his moist hand, as it lay on his knee, made faint movements, as though trying to catch something.