tess and Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, involuntarily turned round to look once more at this singular personage.
"Monsieur Landau," said the countess, gently, and with a precaution which struck Oblonsky. The introduction was made.
Landau hastily glanced around, and coming up, placed his moist, unresponsive hand in Oblonsky's, and immediately went back to look at the portraits. Lidia Ivanovna and Alekseï Aleksandrovitch exchanged significant glances.
"I am very glad to see you to-day," said the countess to Stepan Arkadyevitch, motioning him to a chair. "You noticed," added she, in a low voice, glancing at the Frenchman, "that I introduced him to you by the name of Landau; but his name is really Count Bezzubof, as you probably know. Only he is not fond of the title."
"Yes, I heard about it," said Stepan Arkadyevitch; "it is said he perfectly cured the Countess Bezzubof."
"She came to see me to-day," said the countess, addressing Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, "and it was sad to see her. This separation is terrible for her. It is such a blow to her."
"Then he is positively going?"
"Yes; he is going to Paris. Yesterday he heard a voice," said Lidia Ivanovna, looking at Stepan Arkadyevitch.
"Oh, a voice?" repeated he, feeling that it was necessary to use great prudence among these people, where things occurred or might occur, without his being able to explain them.
A moment's silence ensued, at the end of which the Countess Lidia Ivanovna, as if accidentally stumbling on the chief topic of their conversation, said, with a sweet smile, addressing Oblonsky:—
"I have known of you for a long time, and I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Les amis de nos amis sont nos amis. But to be truly friends, we must know what is passing in the souls of those we love; and I fear you do not with regard to Alekseï Aleksandro-
