AfterAnnaMikhaylovnahaddrivenoffwithhersontovisitCountCyrilVladimirovichBezukhov, .
"Whatisthematterwithyou, mydear?" shesaidcrosslytothemaidwhokeptherwaitingsomeminutes."Don'tyouwishtoserveme? ThenI'llfindyouanotherplace."
Thecountesswasupsetbyherfriend'ssorrowandhumiliatingpoverty, andwasthereforeoutofsorts, astateofmindwhichwithheralwaysfoundexpressionincallinghermaid "mydear" andspeakingtoherwithexaggeratedpoliteness.
"Iamverysorry, ma'am," answeredthemaid.
"Askthecounttocometome."
Thecountcamewaddlingintoseehiswifewitharatherguiltylookasusual.
"Well, littlecountess? Whatasauteofgameaumaderewearetohave, mydear! !"
Hesatdownbyhiswife, hiselbowsonhiskneesandhishandsrufflinghisgrayhair.
"Whatareyourcommands, littlecountess?"
"Yousee, mydear...What'sthatmess?" shesaid, pointingtohiswaistcoat."It'sthesaute, mostlikely," sheaddedwithasmile."Well, yousee, Count, Iwantsomemoney."
Herfacebecamesad.
"Oh, littlecountess!"...andthecountbeganbustlingtogetouthispocketbook.
"Iwantagreatdeal, Count! Iwantfivehundredrubles," andtakingouthercambrichandkerchiefshebeganwipingherhusband'swaistcoat.
"Yes, immediately, immediately! Hey, who'sthere?" hecalledoutinatoneonlyusedbypersonswhoarecertainthatthosetheycallwillrushtoobeythesummons."SendDmitritome!"
Dmitri, amanofgoodfamilywhohadbeenbroughtupinthecount'shouseandnowmanagedallhisaffairs, steppedsoftlyintotheroom.
