They returned to Marya Dmitrievna and Panshin, where a game of picquet was still dragging on.

The last king was called at last, and the lady of the house rose, sighing and groaning from her well-cushioned easy chair.

Panshin took his hat, kissed Marya Dmitrievna's hand, remarking that nothing hindered some happy people now from sleeping, but that he had to sit up over stupid papers till morning, and departed, bowing coldly to Lisa (he had not expected that she would ask him to wait so long for an answer to his offer, and he was cross with her for it).

Lavretsky followed him.

They parted at the gate.