Page 1193 - ANNA KARENINA

Anna Karenina

‘You came in late, I think, and have missed the best
song,’ Anna said to Vronsky, glancing ironically, he
thought, at him.
‘I am a poor judge of music,’ he said, looking sternly at

her.
‘Like Prince Yashvin,’ she said smiling, ‘who considers
that Patti sings too loud.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, her little hand in its long glove
taking the playbill Vronsky picked up, and suddenly at that
instant her lovely face quivered. She got up and went into
the interior of the box.
Noticing in the next act that her box was empty,
Vronsky, rousing indignant ‘hushes’ in the silent audience,
went out in the middle of a solo and drove home.
Anna was already at home. When Vronsky went up to
her, she was in the same dress as she had worn at the
theater. She was sitting in the first armchair against the
wall, looking straight before her. She looked at him, and
at once resumed her former position.
‘Anna,’ he said.
‘You, you are to blame for everything!’ she cried, with
tears of despair and hatred in her voice, getting up.
‘I begged, I implored you not to go, I knew it would
be unpleasant...’

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