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Anna Pavlovna's reception was in full swing. The spindles hummedsteadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt,newport 100,beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn facewas rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole companyhad settled into three groups. One,cartons of newports, chiefly masculine,newport cigarettes cheap, had formedround the abbe. Another,cheap marlboro cigarettes, of young people, was grouped round thebeautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili's daughter, and the littlePrincess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plumpfor her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and AnnaPavlovna.
　　The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features andpolished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but outof politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle inwhich he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him upas a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d'hotel serves up as aspecially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seenit in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna servedup to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe,newport carton, as peculiarlychoice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussingthe murder of the Duc d'Enghien. The vicomte said that the Ducd'Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there wereparticular reasons for Buonaparte's hatred of him.
　　"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna,with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV inthe sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte."
　　The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingnessto comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him,newport box, inviting everyoneto listen to his tale.