Every one
was in the highest spirits. Countess Olga and Lord Courtray looked as
though they were getting on with giant strides. Jack had got to the
whispering stage, which Tamara knew to be a serious one with him. The
whole party became worked up to a point of extra gaiety. On her other
hand sat Sonia's husband, Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin. But Gritzko
sparkled with brilliancy and seemed to lead the entire table.
There was something so extremely attractive about him in his character
of host that Tamara felt she dared hardly look at him or she could not
possibly keep up this cold reserve if she did!
So she turned and talked, and apparently listened, with scarcely a
pause to her right-hand neighbor's endless dissertations upon Moscow,
and while she answered interestedly, her thoughts grew more and more
full of rebellion and unrest.
It was as if a needle had an independent will, and yet was being drawn
by a magnet against itself. She had to use every bit of her force to
keep her head turned to Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin, and when Gritzko
did address her, only to answer him in monosyllables, stiffly, but
politely, as a stranger guest should.
By the end of dinner he was again wild with rage and exasperation.
When they got back to the great saloon, they found the end of it had
been cleared and a semicircle of chairs arranged for them to sit in and
watch some performance.
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