Now the foreign steamers and the men in white reminded her for some reason of a huge hall; together with the shouts of French she heard the strains of a waltz, and her bosom heaved with unaccountable delight.  She longed to dance and talk French.

She reflected joyfully that there was nothing terrible about her infidelity.  Her soul had no part in her infidelity; she still loved Laevsky, and that was proved by the fact that she was jealous of him, was sorry for him, and missed him when he was away.  Kirilin had turned out to be very mediocre, rather coarse though handsome; everything was broken off with him already and there would never be anything more.  What had happened was over; it had nothing to do with any one, and if Laevsky found it out he would not believe in it.

There was only one bathing-house for ladies on the sea-front; men bathed under the open sky.  Going into the bathing-house, Nadyezhda Fyodorovna found there an elderly lady, Marya Konstantinovna Bityugov, and her daughter Katya, a schoolgirl of fifteen; both of them were sitting on a bench undressing.  Marya Konstantinovna was a good-natured, enthusiastic, and genteel person, who talked in a drawling and pathetic voice.  She had been a governess until she was thirty-two, and then had married Bityugov, a Government official—­a bald little man with his hair combed on to his temples and with a very meek disposition.  She was still in love with him, was jealous, blushed at the word “love,” and told every one she was very happy.

“My dear,” she cried enthusiastically, on seeing Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, assuming an expression which all her acquaintances called “almond-oily.”  “My dear, how delightful that you have come!  We’ll bathe together —­that’s enchanting!”

Olga quickly flung off her dress and chemise, and began undressing her mistress.

“It’s not quite so hot to-day as yesterday?” said Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, shrinking at the coarse touch of the naked cook.  “Yesterday I almost died of the heat.”

“Oh, yes, my dear; I could hardly breathe myself.  Would you believe it?  I bathed yesterday three times!  Just imagine, my dear, three times!  Nikodim Alexandritch was quite uneasy.”

“Is it possible to be so ugly?” thought Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, looking at Olga and the official’s wife; she glanced at Katya and thought:  “The little girl’s not badly made.”

“Your Nikodim Alexandritch is very charming!” she said.  “I’m simply in love with him.”

“Ha, ha, ha!” cried Marya Konstantinovna, with a forced laugh; “that’s quite enchanting.”

Free from her clothes, Nadyezhda Fyodorovna felt a desire to fly.  And it seemed to her that if she were to wave her hands she would fly upwards.  When she was undressed, she noticed that Olga looked scornfully at her white body.  Olga, a young soldier’s wife, was living with her lawful husband, and so considered herself superior to her mistress.  Marya Konstantinovna and Katya were afraid of her, and did not respect her.  This was disagreeable, and to raise herself in their opinion, Nadyezhda Fyodorovna said: