When she and Countess Olga left to catch an early afternoon train he
came too. He had to be back in Petersburg, he said. Nothing could look
more desolate than the tracts of country seen from the train windows,
so near the capital and yet wild, uncultivated spaces, part almost like
a marsh. There seemed to be nothing living but the lonely soldiers who
guarded the Royal line a hundred yards or so off. It depressed Tamara
as she gazed out, and she unconsciously sighed, while a sad look came
into her eyes.

The Prince and Countess Olga and another officer, who had joined them,
were all chaffing gaily while they smoked their cigarettes, but Gritzko
appeared to be aware of everything that was passing, for he suddenly
bent over and whispered to Tamara:

"Madame, when you have been here long enough you will learn never to
see what you do not wish." Then he turned back to the others, and
laughed again.

What did he mean? she wondered. Were there many things then to which
one must shut one's eyes?

She now caught part of the conversation that was going on.

"But why won't you come, Gritzko?" Countess Olga was saying. "It will
be most amusing--and the prizes are lovely, Tatiane, who has seen them,
says."

"I?--to be glued to a bridge table for three solid evenings. Mon Dieu!"
the Prince cried. "Having to take what partner falls to one's lot! No
choice! My heavens! nothing would drag me. Whatever game I play in