Chapter 7

           

           WhenBorísandAnnaPávlovnareturnedtotheothersPrinceHippolytehadtheearofthecompany.

           Bendingforwardinhisarmchairhesaid:“LeRoidePrusse!”andhavingsaidthislaughed.Everyoneturnedtowardhim.

           “LeRoidePrusse?”Hippolytesaidinterrogatively,againlaughing,andthencalmlyandseriouslysatbackinhischair.AnnaPávlovnawaitedforhimtogoon,butasheseemedquitedecidedtosaynomoreshebegantotellofhowatPotsdamtheimpiousBonapartehadstolentheswordofFredericktheGreat.

           “ItistheswordofFredericktheGreatwhichI...”shebegan,butHippolyteinterruptedherwiththewords:“LeRoidePrusse...”andagain,assoonasallturnedtowardhim,excusedhimselfandsaidnomore.

           AnnaPávlovnafrowned.Mortemart,Hippolyte’sfriend,addressedhimfirmly.

           “Comenow,whataboutyourRoidePrusse?”

           Hippolytelaughedasifashamedoflaughing.

           “Oh,it’snothing.Ionlywishedtosay...”(hewantedtorepeatajokehehadheardinViennaandwhichhehadbeentryingallthateveningtogetin)“IonlywishedtosaythatwearewrongtofightpourleRoidePrusse!”

           Boríssmiledcircumspectly,sothatitmightbetakenasironicalorappreciativeaccordingtothewaythejokewasreceived.Everybodylaughed.

           “Yourjokeistoobad,it’swittybutunjust,”saidAnnaPávlovna,shakingherlittleshriveledfingerathim.

           “WearenotfightingpourleRoidePrusse,butforrightprinciples.Oh,thatwickedPrinceHippolyte!”shesaid.

           Theconversationdidnotflagalleveningandturnedchieflyonthepoliticalnews.

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