Lavretsky noticed with pleasure that his relations with Lisa were becoming more intimate; she had held out her hand to him affectionately directly she came in.

After dinner Lemm drew out of his coat-tail pocket, into which he had continually been fumbling, a small roll of music-paper and compressing his lips he laid it without speaking on the pianoforte.

It was a song composed by him the evening before, to some old-fashioned German words, in which mention was made of the stars.
Lisa sat down at once to the piano and played at sight the song....
Alas! the music turned out to be complicated and painfully strained; it was clear that the composer had striven to express something passionate and deep, but nothing had come of it; the effort had remained an effort.
Lavretsky and Lisa both felt this, and Lemm understood it.

Without uttering a single word, he put his song back into his pocket, and in reply to Lisa's proposal to play it again, he only shook his head and said significantly: "Now--enough!" and shrinking into himself he turned away.
Towards evening the whole party went out to fish.

In the pond behind the garden there were plenty of carp and groundlings.