My mistress asked for coffee to be served in the drawing room as soon as Vronsky arrived and ordered that they should not be disturbed. I knew what that meant. I went at once to my spyhole in the adjoining chamber. Vronsky was sipping his coffee and watching my mistress who was already taking off her clothes. In a moment, Anna stood before him completely naked, her light summer dress and underwear strewn carelessly around her little feet with their suckable, pink toes. She turned herself this way and that for his admiration of her pretty breasts and bottom and neat little bush with which I am, of course, as her personal maid, not unfamiliar. My naughty Anna does not resist certain discreet attouchements, unacknowledged on either side when they happen, while I bath or dress her. I have to judge her mood. But usually I can tell as I soap her body precisely how long my hand my linger between her slippery thighs or tease her breasts without inciting the mildest rebuke. Believe me, there is nothing more delicious than bathing the body of a beautiful, compliant woman. There have been misjudgments but none with lasting consequences. The Countess Karenina cannot do without the attentions of her dutiful Dobryninskaya for long. More than once, when putting Anna to bed, I could tell she was tempted to ask me to linger with her but feared to take the ultimate step of surrender. I know how to be patient, so I wait. She will come to me eventually and I will take all of her, each private crevice, and she will be my servant. I was confident, moreover, that I already knew her better than either Vronsky or Karenin, neither of whom, I was sure, was aware of the delicious private mole between Anna's sublime little anus and her vagina that wets so readily. But for now she was Vronsky's, strutting in front of him like a lascivious nymph, parading her nudity shamelessly as she worked on his arousal. The count – a male brute whom I hate, by the way – directed her movements like a theater director for some 15 minutes until, his gaze sated by her obedient nakedness, he pulled her to a chaise longue which was not visible from my spyhole. I knew that I would witness no more for now. It was 45 minutes before the bell rang. Anna, fully dressed again and betraying no sign whatever of her frolics, greeted me casually when I entered the drawing room. Dobryninskaya, she said, Count Vronsky is leaving. Please show him out. Vronsky bent over her hand and followed me to the door. That night, when I collected her underwear, it was as I suspected well impregnated with his sperm.