It was the third time that day that, with an ecstatic and artless smile, she had met him in secluded passages.
"Oh! I thought you were in your room," she said, for some reason blushing and dropping her eyes.
Prince Andrew looked sternly at her and an expression of anger suddenly came over his face.

He said nothing to her but looked at her forehead and hair, without looking at her eyes, with such contempt that the Frenchwoman blushed and went away without a word.

When he reached his sister's room his wife was already awake and her merry voice, hurrying one word after another, came through the open door.

She was speaking as usual in French, and as if after long self-restraint she wished to make up for lost time.
"No, but imagine the old Countess Zubova, with false curls and her mouth full of false teeth, as if she were trying to cheat old age....

Ha, ha, ha! Mary!" This very sentence about Countess Zubova and this same laugh Prince Andrew had already heard from his wife in the presence of others some five times.