But Chichikov never even noticed him; he saw in the distance only the golden-haired beauty.

At that moment she was drawing on a long glove and, doubtless, pining to be flying over the dancing-floor, where, with clicking heels, four couples had now begun to thread the mazes of the mazurka.

In particular was a military staff-captain working body and soul and arms and legs to compass such a series of steps as were never before performed, even in a dream.

However, Chichikov slipped past the mazurka dancers, and, almost treading on their heels, made his way towards the spot where Madame and her daughter were seated.

Yet he approached them with great diffidence and none of his late mincing and prancing.