"We’ve come to fetch you. Your lessive lasted a good time today," said Petritsky. "Well, is it over?" "It is over," answered Vronsky, smiling with his eyes only, and twirling the tips of his mustaches as circumspectly as though after the perfect order into which his affairs had been brought any over-bold or rapid movement might disturb it. "You’re always just as if you’d come out of a bath after it," said Petritsky. "I’ve come from Gritsky’s" (that was what they called the colonel); "they’re expecting you." Vronsky, without answering, looked at his comrade, thinking of something else. "Yes; is that music at his place?" he said, listening to the familiar sounds of polkas and waltzes floating across to him. "What’s the fête?" "Serpuhovskoy’s come." "Aha!" said Vronsky, "why, I didn’t know." The smile in his eyes gleamed more brightly than ever.