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 "How good of you to come early," said Korsunsky, as he put his arm around her waist. "I don't like the fashion of being late."

Kitty placed her left hand on her partner's shoulder, and her little feet, shod in rose-colored bashmaks, glided swiftly, lightly, and rhythmically over the polished floor.

"It is restful to dance with you," said he, as he fell into the slow measures of the waltz: "charming! such lightness! such precision!"

That was what he said to almost all his dancing acquaintances.

She smiled at his flattery, and continued to study the ball-room across her partner's shoulder. She was not such a novice in society as to find all faces blending in one magic sensation; she had not been so assiduous in her attendance at balls as to know every one present, and be tired of seeing them. But she was in that happy condition between these two extremes, she was exhilarated and at the same time she was sufficiently self-possessed to be able to look around and observe.

She noticed a group that had gathered in the left-hand corner of the ball-room, composed of the very flower of society. Korsunsky's wife, Lidi, a beauty in an extremely low-cut corsage, was there; the mistress of the mansion was there; there shone Krivin's bald head, always to be seen where the flower of society was gathered. Young men were looking at this group, and not venturing to join it. Then her eyes fell on Stiva, who was also there, and then she saw Anna's elegant figure dressed in black velvet. And he was there. Kitty had not seen him since the evening when she refused Levin. Kitty's keen eyes instantly recognized him across the room, and saw that he was looking at her.

"Shall we have one more turn? You are not fatigued?" asked Korsunsky, slightly out of breath.

"No, thank you."

"Where shall I leave you?"

"I think Madame Karenina is here; .... take me to her."