who is going to fathom their needs or their fancies? Most of the time
they themselves don't know much about their innermost moods, and blunder
out of one into another, sometimes with catastrophic results. And then
who is more surprised than they? However, Tomassov's case was in its
nature quite idyllic. The fashionable world was amused. His devotion
made for him a kind of social success. But he didn't care. There was his
one divinity, and there was the shrine where he was permitted to go in
and out without regard for official reception hours.

"He took advantage of that privilege freely. Well, lie had no official
duties, you know. The Military Mission was supposed to be more
complimentary than anything else, the head of it being a personal
friend of our Emperor Alexander; and he, too, was laying himself out for
successes in fashionable life exclusively--as it seemed. As it seemed.

"One afternoon Tomassov called on the mistress of his thoughts earlier
than usual. She was not alone. There was a man with her, not one of the
thick-waisted, bald-headed personages, but a somebody all the same,
a man over thirty, a French officer who to some extent was also a
privileged intimate. Tomassov was not jealous of him. Such a sentiment
would have appeared presumptuous to the simple fellow.

"On the contrary he admired that officer. You have no idea of the French
military men's prestige in those days, even with us Russian soldiers
who had managed to face them perhaps better than the rest. Victory had
marked them on the forehead--it seemed for ever. They would have been
more than human if they had not been conscious of it; but they were good
comrades and had a sort of brotherly feeling for all who bore arms, even
if it was against them.