Part Seven: Chapter 12

by Leo Tolstoy

　　After taking leave of her guests, Anna did not sit down, butbegan walking up and down the room. She had unconsciously thewhole evening done her utmost to arouse in Levin a feeling oflove--as of late she had fallen into doing with all young men--and she knew she had attained her aim, as far as was possible inone evening, with a married and conscientious man. She liked himindeed extremely, and, in spite of the striking difference, fromthe masculine point of view, between Vronsky and Levin, as awoman she saw something they had in common, which had made Kittyable to love both. Yet as soon as he was out of the room, sheceased to think of him.

　　One thought, and one only, pursued her in different forms, andrefused to be shaken off. "If I have so much effect on others,on this man, who loves his home and his wife, why is it he is socold to me?...not cold exactly, he loves me, I know that! Butsomething new is drawing us apart now. Why wasn't he here allthe evening? He told Stiva to say he could not leave Yashvin,and must watch over his play. Is Yashvin a child? But supposingit's true. He never tells a lie. But there's something else init if it's true. He is glad of an opportunity of showing me thathe has other duties; I know that, I submit to that. But whyprove that to me? He wants to show me that his love for me isnot to interfere with his freedom. But I need no proofs, I needlove. He ought to understand all the bitterness of this life forme here in Moscow. Is this life? I am not living, but waitingfor an event, which is continually put off and put off. Noanswer again! And Stiva says he cannot go to AlexeyAlexandrovitch. And I can't write again. I can do nothing, canbegin nothing, can alter nothing; I hold myself in, I wait,inventing amusements for myself--the English family, writing,reading--but it's all nothing but a sham, it's all the same asmorphine. He ought to feel for me," she said, feeling tears ofself-pity coming into her eyes.

　　She heard Vronsky's abrupt ring and hurriedly dried her tears--not only dried her tears, but sat down by a lamp and opened abook, affecting composure. She wanted to show him that she wasdispleased that he had not come home as he had promised--displeased only, and not on any account to let him see herdistress, and least of all, her self-pity. She might pityherself, but he must not pity her. She did not want strife, sheblamed him for wanting to quarrel, but unconsciously put herselfinto an attitude of antagonism.

　　"Well, you've not been dull?" he said, eagerly andgood-humoredly, going up to her. "What a terrible passion itis--gambling!"

　　"No, I've not been dull; I've learned long ago not to be dull.Stiva has been here and Levin."

　　"Yes, they meant to come and see you. Well, how did you likeLevin?" he said, sitting down beside her.

　　"Very much. They have not long been gone. What was Yashvindoing?"

　　"He was winning--seventeen thousand. I got him away. He hadreally started home, but he went back again, and now he'slosing."

　　"Then what did you stay for?" she asked, suddenly lifting hereyes to him. The expression of her face was cold and ungracious."You told Stiva you were staying on to get Yashvin away. And youhave left him there."

　　The same expression of cold readiness for the conflict appearedon his face too.

　　"In the first place, I did not ask him to give you any message;and secondly, I never tell lies. But what's the chief point, Iwanted to stay, and I stayed," he said, frowning. "Anna, whatis it for, why will you?" he said after a moment's silence,bending over towards her, and he opened his hand, hoping shewould lay hers in it.

　　She was glad of this appeal for tenderness. But some strangeforce of evil would not let her give herself up to her feelings,as though the rules of warfare would not permit her to surrender.

　　"Of course you wanted to stay, and you stayed. You do everythingyou want to. But what do you tell me that for? With whatobject?" she said, getting more and more excited. "Does anyonecontest your rights? But you want to be right, and you'rewelcome to be right."

　　His hand closed, he turned away, and his face wore a still moreobstinate expression.

　　"For you it's a matter of obstinacy," she said, watching himintently and suddenly finding the right word for that expressionthat irritated her, "simply obstinacy. For you it's a questionof whether you keep the upper hand of me, while for me...."Again she felt sorry for herself, and she almost burst intotears. "If you knew what it is for me! When I feel as I do nowthat you are hostile, yes, hostile to me, if you knew what thismeans for me! If you knew how I feel on the brink of calamity atthis instant, how afraid I am of myself!" And she turned away,hiding her sobs.

　　"But what are you talking about?" he said, horrified at herexpression of despair, and again bending over her, he took herhand and kissed it. "What is it for? Do I seek amusementsoutside our home? Don't I avoid the society of women?"

　　"Well, yes! If that were all!" she said.

　　"Come, tell me what I ought to do to give you peace of mind? Iam ready to do anything to make you happy," he said, touched byher expression of despair; "what wouldn't I do to save you fromdistress of any sort, as now, Anna!" he said.

　　"It's nothing, nothing!" she said. "I don't know myself whetherit's the solitary life, my nerves.... Come, don't let us talkof it. What about the race? You haven't told me!" she inquired,trying to conceal her triumph at the victory, which had anywaybeen on her side.

　　He asked for supper, and began telling her about the races; butin his tone, in his eyes, which became more and more cold, shesaw that he did not forgive her for her victory, that the feelingof obstinacy with which she had been struggling had asserteditself again in him. He was colder to her than before, as thoughhe were regretting his surrender. And she, remembering the wordsthat had given her the victory, "how I feel on the brink ofcalamity, how afraid I am of myself," saw that this weapon was adangerous one, and that it could not be used a second time. Andshe felt that beside the love that bound them together there hadgrown up between them some evil spirit of strife, which she couldnot exorcise from his, and still less from her own heart.