Part Five: Chapter 32

by Leo Tolstoy

　　When Vronsky returned home, Anna was not yet home. Soon after hehad left, some lady, so they told him, had come to see her, andshe had gone out with her. That she had gone out without leavingword where she was going, that she had not yet come back, andthat all the morning she had been going about somewhere without aword to him--all this, together with the strange look ofexcitement in her face in the morning, and the recollection ofthe hostile tone with which she had before Yashvin almostsnatched her son's photographs out of his hands, made himserious. He decided he absolutely must speak openly with her.And he waited for her in her drawing room. But Anna did notreturn alone, but brought with her her old unmarried aunt,Princess Oblonskaya. This was the lady who had come in themorning, and with whom Anna had gone out shopping. Anna appearednot to notice Vronsky's worried and inquiring expression, andbegan a lively account of her morning's shopping. He saw thatthere was something working within her; in her flashing eyes,when they rested for a moment on him, there was an intenseconcentration, and in her words and movements there was thatnervous rapidity and grace which, during the early period oftheir intimacy, had so fascinated him, but which now so disturbedand alarmed him.

　　The dinner was laid for four. All were gathered together andabout to go into the little dining room when Tushkevitch made hisappearance with a message from Princess Betsy. Princess Betsybegged her to excuse her not having come to say good-bye; she hadbeen indisposed, but begged Anna to come to her between half-pastsix and nine o'clock. Vronsky glanced at Anna at the preciselimit of time, so suggestive of steps having been taken that sheshould meet no one; but Anna appeared not to notice it.

　　"Very sorry that I can't come just between half-past six andnine," she said with a faint smile.

　　"The princess will be very sorry."

　　"And so am I."

　　"You're going, no doubt, to hear Patti?" said Tushkevitch.

　　"Patti? You suggest the idea to me. I would go if it werepossible to get a box."

　　"I can get one," Tushkevitch offered his services.

　　"I should be very, very grateful to you," said Anna. "But won'tyou dine with us?"

　　Vronsky gave a hardly perceptible shrug. He was at a completeloss to understand what Anna was about. What had she brought theold Princess Oblonskaya home for, what had she made Tushkevitchstay to dinner for, and, most amazing of all, why was she sendinghim for a box? Could she possibly think in her position of goingto Patti's benefit, where all the circle of her acquaintanceswould be? He looked at her with serious eyes, but she respondedwith that defiant, half-mirthful, half-desperate look, themeaning of which he could not comprehend. At dinner Anna was inaggressively high spirits--she almost flirted both withTushkevitch and with Yashvin. When they got up from dinner andTushkevitch had gone to get a box at the opera, Yashvin went tosmoke, and Vronsky went down with him to his own rooms. Aftersitting there for some time he ran upstairs. Anna was alreadydressed in a low-necked gown of light silk and velvet that shehad had made in Paris, and with costly white lace on her head,framing her face, and particularly becoming, showing up herdazzling beauty.

　　"Are you really going to the theater?" he said, trying not tolook at her.

　　"Why do you ask with such alarm?" she said, wounded again at hisnot looking at her. "Why shouldn't I go?"

　　She appeared not to understand the motive of his words.

　　"Oh, of course, there's no reason whatever," he said, frowning.

　　"That's just what I say," she said, willfully refusing to see theirony of his tone, and quietly turning back her long, perfumedglove.

　　"Anna, for God's sake! what is the matter with you?" he said,appealing to her exactly as once her husband had done.

　　"I don't understand what you are asking."

　　"You know that it's out of the question to go."

　　"Why so? I'm not going alone. Princess Varvara has gone todress, she is going with me."

　　He shrugged his shoulders with an air of perplexity and despair.

　　"But do you mean to say you don't know?..." he began.

　　"But I don't care to know!" she almost shrieked. "I don't careto. Do I regret what I have done? No, no, no! If it were allto do again from the beginning, it would be the same. For us,for you and for me, there is only one thing that matters, whetherwe love each other. Other people we need not consider. Why arewe living here apart and not seeing each other? Why can't I go?I love you, and I don't care for anything," she said in Russian,glancing at him with a peculiar gleam in her eyes that he couldnot understand. "If you have not changed to me, why don't youlook at me?"

　　He looked at her. He saw all the beauty of her face and fulldress, always so becoming to her. But now her beauty andelegance were just what irritated him.

　　"My feeling cannot change, you know, but I beg you, I entreatyou," he said again in French, with a note of tender supplicationin his voice, but with coldness in his eyes.

　　She did not hear his words, but she saw the coldness of his eyes,and answered with irritation:

　　"And I beg you to explain why I should not go."

　　"Because it might cause you..." he hesitated.

　　"I don't understand. Yashvin n'est pas compromettant, andPrincess Varvara is no worse than others. Oh, here she is!"