by Leo Tolstoy
After the doctor, who had taken so much time, came the famous traveller, and Alexei Alexandrovich, using the just-read booklet and his previous knowledge of the subject, struck the traveller with the depth of his grasp and the breadth of his enlightened outlook.
Along with the traveller, the arrival of a provincial marshal[30] was announced, who had come to Petersburg and with whom he had to talk. After his departure, he needed to finish the everyday work with his office manager and also go to see a very significant person on some serious and important business. Alexei Alexandrovich just managed to get back by five o'clock, his dinner-time, and, having dined with his office manager, invited him to come along to his country house and the races.
Without realizing it, Alexei Alexandrovich now sought occasions for having a third person present at his meetings with his wife.
XXVII
Anna was standing in front of the mirror upstairs, pinning the last bow to her dress with Annushka's help, when she heard the sound of wheels crunching gravel at the entrance.
'It's too early for Betsy,' she thought and, looking out the window, saw the carriage with Alexei Alexandrovich's black hat and so-familiar ears sticking out of it. 'That's untimely. Does he mean to spend the night?' she thought, and all that might come of it seemed to her so terrible and frightening that, without a moment's thought, she went out to meet them with a gay and radiant face and, feeling in herself the presence of the already familiar spirit of lying and deceit, at once surrendered to it and began talking without knowing herself what she was going to say.
'Ah, how nice!' she said, giving her hand to her husband and greeting Slyudin with a smile as a member of the household. 'You'll spend the night, I hope?' were the first words that the spirit of deceit prompted her to say. 'And now we can go together. Only it's a pity I promised Betsy. She's coming for me.'
Alexei Alexandrovich winced at the name of Betsy.
'Oh, I wouldn't separate the inseparables,' he said in his usual jocular tone. 'I'll go with Mikhail Vassilyevich. And the doctors tell me to walk. I'll stroll on the way and imagine I'm back at the spa.'
'There's no hurry,' said Anna. 'Would you like tea?'
She rang.
'Serve tea, and tell Seryozha that Alexei Alexandrovich has come. Well, how is your health? Mikhail Vassilyevich, you've never been here; look how nice it is on my balcony,' she said, addressing first one, then the other.
She spoke very simply and naturally, but too much and too quickly. She felt it herself, the more so as, in the curious glance that Mikhail Vassilyevich gave her, she noticed that he seemed to be observing her.
Mikhail Vassilyevich at once went out on the terrace.
She sat down by her husband.
'You don't look quite well,' she said.
'Yes,' he said, 'the doctor came today and took an hour of my time. I have the feeling that one of my friends sent him: my health is so precious ...'
'No, but what did he say?'
She asked him about his health and work, persuading him to rest and move out to stay with her.
She said all this gaily, quickly, and with a special brightness in her eyes, but Alexei Alexandrovich now ascribed no significance to this tone. He heard only her words and gave them only that direct meaning which they had. And he answered her simply, though jocularly. There was nothing special in their conversation, but afterwards Anna could never recall that whole little scene without a tormenting sense of shame.
Seryozha came in, preceded by the governess. If Alexei Alexandrovich had allowed himself to observe, he would have noticed the timid, perplexed look with which Seryozha glanced first at his father, then at his mother. But he did not want to see anything, and did not see anything.
'Ah, the young man! He's grown up. Really, he's becoming quite a man. Hello, young man.'
And he gave the frightened Seryozha his hand.
Seryozha had been timid towards his father even before, but now, since Alexei Alexandrovich had started calling him young man and since the riddle about whether Vronsky was friend or foe had entered his head, he shrank from his father. As if asking for protection, he looked at his mother. He felt good only with her. Alexei Alexandrovich, talking meanwhile with the governess, held his son by the shoulder, and Seryozha felt so painfully awkward that Anna saw he was about to cry.
Anna, who had blushed the moment her son came in, noticing that Seryozha felt awkward, quickly jumped up, removed Alexei Alexandrovich's hand from the boy's shoulder, kissed him, took him out to the terrace and came back at once.
'Anyhow, it's already time,' she said, glancing at her watch, 'why doesn't Betsy come! ...'
'Yes,' said Alexei Alexandrovich and, rising, he interlaced his fingers and cracked them. 'I also came to bring you money, since nightingales aren't fed on fables,' he said. 'You need it, I suppose.'
'No, I don't... yes, I do,' she said, not looking at him and blushing to the roots of her hair. 'I suppose you'll stop here after the races.'
'Oh, yes!' answered Alexei Alexandrovich. 'And here comes the pearl of Peterhof, Princess Tverskoy,' he added, glancing out of the window at the English equipage driving up, the horses in blinkers and the tiny body of the carriage extremely high-sprung. 'What elegance! Lovely! Well, then we'll be going as well.'
Princess Tverskoy did not get out of the carriage, only her footman, in gaiters, cape and a little black hat, jumped down at the entrance.
'I'm off, goodbye!' said Anna and, having kissed her son, she went up to Alexei Alexandrovich and offered him her hand. 'It was very nice of you to come.'
Alexei Alexandrovich kissed her hand.
'Well, goodbye then. You'll come for tea, that's splendid!' she said and walked out, radiant and gay. But as soon as she no longer saw him, she felt the place on her hand that his lips had touched and shuddered with revulsion.
XXVIII
When Alexei Alexandrovich appeared at the races, Anna was already sitting in the pavilion beside Betsy, in that pavilion in which all of high society was gathered. She saw her husband from a distance. Two men, husband and lover, were the two centres of life for her, and she felt their nearness without the aid of external senses. She felt her husband's approach from a distance and involuntarily watched him in the undulating crowd through which he moved. She saw how he came to the pavilion, now condescendingly responding to obsequious bows, now amicably, distractedly greeting his equals, now diligently awaiting a glance from the mighty of the world and raising his big, round hat that pressed down the tops of his ears. She knew all his ways and they were all disgusting to her. 'Nothing but ambition, nothing but the wish to succeed - that's all there is in his soul,' she thought, 'and lofty considerations, the love of learning, religion, are all just means to success.'
From his glances towards the ladies' pavilion (he looked straight at his wife, but did not recognize her in that sea of muslin, ribbons, feathers, parasols and flowers), she realized that he was searching for her; but she deliberately ignored him.
'Alexei Alexandrovich!' Princess Betsy called to him. 'You probably don't see your wife: here she is!'
He smiled his cold smile.
'There's so much splendour here, one's eyes are dazzled,' he said and went into the pavilion. He smiled to his wife as a husband ought to smile, meeting her after having just seen her, and greeted the princess and other acquaintances, giving each what was due - that is, joking with the ladies and exchanging greetings with the men. Down beside the pavilion stood an adjutant-general whom Alexei Alexandrovich respected, a man known for his intelligence and cultivation. Alexei Alexandrovich began talking with him.
There was a break between races, and therefore nothing hindered the conversation. The adjutant-general condemned races. Alexei Alexandrovich objected, defending them. Anna listened to his high, even voice, not missing a word, and each of his words seemed false to her and grated painfully on her ear.
When the three-mile steeplechase began, she leaned forward and, not taking her eyes off Vrons
ky, watched him going up to his horse and mounting her, and at the same time listened to her husband's disgusting, incessant voice. She was tormented by her fear for Vronsky, but tormented still more by the sound of her husband's high and, as it seemed to her, incessant voice, with its familiar intonations.
'I'm a bad woman, I'm a ruined woman,' she thought, 'but I don't like to lie, I can't bear lying, and lying is food for him' (her husband).
'He knows everything, he sees everything; what does he feel, then, if he can talk so calmly? If he were to kill me, if he were to kill Vronsky, I would respect him. But no, he needs only lies and propriety,' Anna said to herself, not thinking of precisely what she wanted from her husband or how she wanted to see him. Nor did she understand that Alexei Alexandrovich's particular loquacity that day, which so annoyed her, was only the expression of his inner anxiety and uneasiness. As a child who has hurt himself jumps about in order to move his muscles and stifle the pain, so for Alexei Alexandrovich mental movement was necessary in order to stifle those thoughts about his wife, which in her presence and that of Vronsky, and with his name constantly being repeated, clamoured for his attention. And as it is natural for a child to jump, so it was natural for him to speak well and intelligently. He said:
'The danger in military and cavalry races is a necessary condition of the race. If England in her military history can point to the most brilliant cavalry exploits, it is only thanks to the fact that historically she has developed this strength in animals and people. Sport, in my opinion, has great importance, and, as usual, we see only what is most superficial.'
'Not so superficial,' Princess Tverskoy said. 'They say one officer has broken two ribs.'
Alexei Alexandrovich smiled his smile which only revealed his teeth, but said nothing more.
'Let's suppose, Princess, that it is not superficial,' he said, 'but internal. But that is not the point,' and he again turned to the general, with whom he was speaking seriously. 'Don't forget that racing is for military men, who have chosen that activity, and you must agree that every vocation has its reverse side of the coin. It's a military man's duty. The ugly sport of fist fighting or of the Spanish toreadors is a sign of barbarism. But a specialized sport is a sign of development.'
'No, I won't come next time; it upsets me too much,' said Princess Betsy. 'Isn't that so, Anna?'
'It's upsetting, but you can't tear yourself away,' said another lady. 'If I'd been a Roman, I wouldn't have missed a single circus.'
Anna said nothing and looked at one spot without taking her binoculars away.
Just then a tall general passed through the pavilion. Interrupting his speech, Alexei Alexandrovich rose hastily, but with dignity, and bowed low to the passing military man.
'You're not racing?' joked the officer.
'Mine is a harder race,' Alexei Alexandrovich replied respectfully.
And though the reply did not mean anything, the officer pretended that he had heard a clever phrase from a clever man and had perfectly understood la pointe de la sauce. *
'There are two sides,' Alexei Alexandrovich went on again, sitting down, 'the performers and the spectators; and the love of such spectacles is the surest sign of low development in the spectators, I agree, but.. .'
'A bet, Princess!' the voice of Stepan Arkadyich came from below, addressing Betsy. 'Who are you backing?'
'Anna and I are for Prince Kuzovlev,' replied Betsy.
'I'm for Vronsky. A pair of gloves.'
'You're on!'
'It's so beautiful, isn't it?'
Alexei Alexandrovich paused while the people around him talked, but at once began again.
'I agree, but manly games ...' he tried to go on.
But at that moment the riders were given the start, and all conversation ceased. Alexei Alexandrovich also fell silent, and everyone rose and turned towards the stream. Alexei Alexandrovich was not interested in the race and therefore did not watch the riders, but began absentmindedly surveying the spectators with his weary eyes. His gaze rested on Anna.
Her face was pale and stern. She obviously saw nothing and no one except one man. Her hand convulsively clutched her fan, and she held her breath. He looked at her and hastily turned away, scrutinizing other faces.
'Yes, that lady and the others are also very upset,' Alexei Alexandrovich said to himself. He wanted not to look at her, but his glance was involuntarily drawn to her. He peered into that face again, trying not to read what was so clearly written on it, and against his will read on it with horror what he did not want to know.
The first fall - Kuzovlev's at the stream - upset everyone, but Alexei Alexandrovich saw clearly on Anna's pale, triumphant face that the one she was watching had not fallen. When, after Makhotin and Vronsky cleared the big barrier, the very next officer fell on his head and knocked himself out, and a rustle of horror passed through all the public, Alexei Alexandrovich saw that Anna did not even notice it and hardly under-
The savour of the sauce.
stood what the people around her were talking about. But he peered at her more and more often and with greater persistence. Anna, all absorbed in watching the racing Vronsky, could feel the gaze of her husband's cold eyes fixed on her from the side.
She turned for an instant, looked at him questioningly, and with a slight frown turned away again.
'Ah, I don't care,' she all but said to him, and never once glanced at him after that.
The race was unlucky: out of seventeen men more than half fell and were injured. Towards the end of the race everyone was in agitation, which was increased still more by the fact that the emperor was displeased.
XXIX
Everyone loudly expressed his disapproval, everyone repeated the phrase someone had uttered: 'We only lack circuses with lions,' and horror was felt by all, so that when Vronsky fell and Anna gasped loudly, there was nothing extraordinary in it. But after that a change came over Anna's face which was positively improper. She was completely at a loss. She started thrashing about like a trapped bird, now wanting to get up and go somewhere, now turning to Betsy.
'Let's go, let's go,' she kept saying.
But Betsy did not hear her. She was bending forward to talk to a general who had come up to her.
Alexei Alexandrovich approached Anna and courteously offered her his arm.
'Let us go, if you wish,' he said in French; but Anna was listening to what the general was saying and ignored her husband.
'He also broke his leg, they say,' the general said. 'It's quite unheard-of.'
Anna, without answering her husband, raised her binoculars and looked at the place where Vronsky had fallen; but it was so far away, and there were so many people crowding there, that it was impossible to make anything out. She lowered the binoculars and made as if to leave; but just then an officer galloped up and reported something to the emperor. Anna leaned forward, listening.
'Stiva! Stiva!' she called out to her brother.
But her brother did not hear her. She again made as if to leave.
'I once again offer you my arm, if you want to go,' said Alexei Alexandrovich, touching her arm.
She recoiled from him in revulsion and, without looking at his face, replied:
'No, no, let me be, I'll stay.'
She saw now that an officer was running across the track towards the pavilion from the place where Vronsky had fallen. Betsy was waving a handkerchief to him.
The officer brought the news that the rider was unhurt, but the horse had broken her back.
Hearing that, Anna quickly sat down and covered her face with her fan. Alexei Alexandrovich could see that she was weeping and was unable to hold back not only her tears but the sobs that heaved her bosom. Alexei Alexandrovich shielded her, giving her time to recover.
'For the third time I offer you my arm,' he said after a short while, addressing her. Anna looked at him and did not know what to say. Princess Betsy came to her aid.
'No, Alexei Alexandrovich, I brought Anna here and prom
ised to take her back,' Betsy interfered.
'Excuse me, Princess,' he said, smiling courteously but looking her firmly in the eye, 'but I see that Anna is not quite well, and I wish her to leave with me.'
Anna glanced fearfully at him, obediently stood up and placed her hand on her husband's arm.
'I'll send to him to find out and get word to you,' Betsy whispered to her.
On the way out of the pavilion, Alexei Alexandrovich, as always, talked with people he met, and Anna also had, as always, to respond and talk; but she was not herself and walked at her husband's side as if in a dream.
