Poor Etta!" Steinmetz moved away toward the door.
"Yes," he said; "poor Etta! It is often those who get on in the world who need the world's pity most." At the door he stopped.
"To-morrow," he said, "I will take you home to England.

Is that agreeable to you, mademoiselle ?" She smiled at him sadly through her tears.
"Yes, I should like that," she said.

"This country is horrible.

You are very kind to me." Steinmetz went down stairs and found Paul at the door talking to a young officer, who slowly dismounted and lounged into the hall, conscious of his brilliant uniform--of his own physical capacity to show off any uniform to full advantage.
He was a lieutenant in a Cossack regiment, and as he bowed to Steinmetz, whom Paul introduced, he swung off his high astrakhan cap with a flourish, showing a fair boyish face.
"Yes," he continued to Paul in English; "the general sent me over with a sotnia of men, and pretty hungry you will find them.

We have covered the whole distance since daybreak.