On a pleasure drive we met the Russian prince in his carriage. He
seemed to be unpleasantly surprised to see me by Wanda’s side, and
looked as if he wanted to pierce her through and through with his
electric gray eyes. She, however, did not seem to notice him. I felt
at that moment like kneeling down before her and kissing her feet.
She let her glance glide over him indifferently as though he were an
inanimate object, a tree, for instance, and turned to me with her
gracious smile.
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