Part One: Chapter 23

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Vronsky and Kitty waltzed several times round the room. Afterthe first waltz Kitty went to her mother, and she had hardly timeto say a few words to Countess Nordston when Vronsky came upagain for the first quadrille. During the quadrille nothing ofany significance was said: there was disjointed talk betweenthem of the Korsunskys, husband and wife, whom he described veryamusingly, as delightful children at forty, and of the futuretown theater; and only once the conversation touched her to thequick, when he asker her about Levin, whether he was here, andadded that he liked him so much. But Kitty did not expect muchfrom the quadrille. She looked forward with a thrill at herheart to the mazurka. She fancied that in the mazurka everythingmust be decided. The fact that he did not during the quadrilleask her for the mazurka did not trouble her. She felt sure shewould dance the mazurka with him as she had done at former balls,and refused five young men, saying she was engaged for themazurka. The whole ball up to the last quadrille was for Kittyan enchanted vision of delightful colors, sounds, and motions.she only sat down when she felt too tired and begged for a rest.But as she was dancing the last quadrille with one of thetiresome young men whom she could not refuse, she chanced to bevis-a-vis with Vronsky and Anna. She had not been near Annaagain since the beginning of the evening, and now again she sawher suddenly quite new and surprising. She saw in her the signsof that excitement of success she knew so well in herself; shesaw that she was intoxicated with the delighted admiration shewas exciting. She knew that feeling and knew its signs, and sawthem in Anna; saw the quivering, flashing light in her eyes, andthe smile of happiness and excitement unconsciously playing onher lips, and the deliberate grace, precision, and lightness ofher movements.

　　"Who?" she asked herself. "All or one?" And not assisting theharassed young man she was dancing with in the conversation, thethread of which he had lost and could not pick up again, sheobeyed with external liveliness the peremptory shouts ofKorsunsky starting them all into the grand round, and then intothe chaine, and at the same time she kept watch with a growingpang at her heart. "No, it's not the admiration of the crowd hasintoxicated her, but the adoration of one. And that one? can itbe he?" Every time he spoke to Anna the joyous light flashedinto her eyes, and the smile of happiness curved her red lips.she seemed to make an effort to control herself, to try not toshow these signs of delight, but they came out on her faceof themselves. "But what of him?" Kitty looked at him and wasfilled with terror. What was pictured so clearly to Kitty in themirror of Anna's face she saw in him. What had become of hisalways self-possessed resolute manner, and the carelessly sereneexpression of his face? Now every time he turned to her, he benthis head, as though he would have fallen at her feet, and in hiseyes there was nothing but humble submission and dread. "I wouldnot offend you," his eyes seemed every time to be saying, "but Iwant to save myself, and I don't know how." On his face was alook such as Kitty have never seen before.

　　They were speaking of common acquaintances, keeping up the mosttrivial conversation, but to Kitty it seemed that every word theysaid was determining their fate and hers. And strange it wasthat they were actually talking of how absurd Ivan Ivanovitch waswith his French, and how the Eletsky girl might have made abetter match, yet these words had all the while consequence forthem, and they were feeling just as Kitty did. The whole ball,the whole world, everything seemed lost in fog in Kitty's soul.Nothing but the stern discipline of her bringing-up supported herand forced her to do what was expected of her, that is, to dance,to answer questions, to talk, even to smile. But before themazurka, when they were beginning to rearrange the chairs and afew couples moved out of the smaller rooms into the big room, amoment of despair and horror came for Kitty. She had refusedfive partners, and now she was not dancing the mazurka. She hadnot even a hope of being asked for it, because she was sosuccessful in society that the idea would never occur to anyonethat she had remained disengaged till now. She would have totell her mother she felt ill and go home, but she had not thestrength to do this. She felt crushed. She went to the furthestend of the little drawing room and sank into a low chair. Herlight, transparent skirts rose like a cloud about her slenderwaist; one bare, thin, soft, girlish arm, hanging listlessly, waslost in the folds of her pink tunic; in the other she held herfan, and with rapid, short strokes fanned her burning face. Butwhile she looked like a butterfly, clinging to a blade of grass,and just about to open its rainbow wings for fresh flight, herheart ached with a horrible despair.

　　"But perhaps I am wrong, perhaps it was not so?" And again sherecalled all she had seen.

　　"Kitty, what is it?" said Countess Nordston, stepping noiselesslyover the carpet towards her. "I don't understand it."

　　Kitty's lower lip began to quiver; she got up quickly.

　　"Kitty, you're not dancing the mazurka?"

　　"No, no," said Kitty in a voice shaking with tears.

　　"He asked her for the mazurka before me," said Countess Nordston,knowing Kitty would understand who were "he" and "her." "Shesaid: 'Why, aren't you going to dance it with PrincessShtcherbatskaya?""

　　"Oh, I don't care!" answered Kitty.

　　No one but she herself understood her position; no one knew thatshe had just refused the man whom perhaps she loved, and refusedhim because she had put her faith in another.

　　Countess Nordston found Korsunsky, with whom she was to dance themazurka, and told him to ask Kitty.

　　Kitty danced in the first couple, and luckily for her she had notto talk, because Korsunsky was all the time running aboutdirecting the figure. Vronsky and Anna sat almost opposite her.She saw them with her long-sighted eyes, and saw them, too, closeby, when they met in the figures, and the more she saw of themthe more convinced was she that her unhappiness was complete.She saw that they felt themselves alone in that crowded room.And on Vronsky's face, always so firm and independent, she sawthat look that had struck her, of bewilderment and humblesubmissiveness, like the expression of an intelligent dog when ithas done wrong.

　　Anna smiled, and her smile was reflected by him. She grewthoughtful, and he became serious. Some supernatural force drewKitty's eyes to Anna's face. She was fascinating in her simpleblack dress, fascinating were her round arms with theirbracelets, fascinating was her firm neck with its thread ofpearls, fascinating the straying curls of her loose hair,fascinating the graceful, light movements of her little feet andhands, fascinating was that lovely face in its eagerness, butthere was something terrible and cruel in her fascination.

　　Kitty admired her more than ever, and more and more acute was hersuffering. Kitty felt overwhelmed, and her face showed it. WhenVronsky saw her, coming across her in the mazurka, he did not atonce recognize her, she was so changed.

　　"Delightful ball!" he said to her, for the sake of sayingsomething.

　　"Yes," she answered.

　　In the middle of the mazurka, repeating a complicated figure,newly invented by Korsunsky, Anna came forward into the center ofthe circle, chose two gentlemen, and summoned a lady and Kitty.Kitty gazed at her in dismay as she went up. Anna looked at herwith drooping eyelids, and smiled, pressing her had. But,noticing that Kitty only responded to her smile by a look ofdespair and amazement, she turned away from her, and began gailytalking to the other lady.

　　"Yes, there is something uncanny, devilish and fascinating inher," Kitty said to herself.

　　Anna did not mean to stay to supper, but the master of the housebegan to press her to do so.

　　"Nonsense, Anna Arkadyevna," said Korsunsky, drawing her bare armunder the sleeve of his dress coat, "I've such an idea for acotillion! Un bijou!"

　　And he moved gradually on, trying to draw her along with him.Their hose smiled approvingly.

　　"No, I am not going to stay," answered Anna, smiling, but inspite of her smile, both Korsunsky and the master of the housesaw from her resolute tone that she would not stay.

　　"No; why, as it is, I have danced mor at your ball in Moscow thatI have all the winter in Petersburg," said Anna, looking round atVronsky, who stood near her. "I must rest a little before myjourney."

　　"Are you certainly going tomorrow then?" asked Vronsky.

　　"Yes, I suppose so," answered Anna, as it were wondering at theboldness of his question; but the irrepressible, quiveringbrilliance of her eyes and her smile set him on fire as she saidit.

　　Anna Arkadyevna did not stay to supper, but went home.