"Well now, good-bye, or you'll never get washed, and I shall have on my conscience the worst sin a gentleman can commit.

So you would advise a knife to his throat?" "To be sure, and manage that your hand may not be far from his lips.

He'll kiss your hand, and all will end satisfactorily," answered Vronsky.

"So at the Francais!" and, with a rustle of her skirts, she vanished.

Kamerovsky got up too, and Vronsky, not waiting for him to go, shook hands and went off to his dressing room.