Page 1500 - ANNA KARENINA

Anna Karenina

Passing through the dining room, a room not very
large, with dark, paneled walls, Stepan Arkadyevitch and
Levin walked over the soft carpet to the half-dark study,
lighted up by a single lamp with a big dark shade. Another

lamp with a reflector was hanging on the wall, lighting up
a big full-length portrait of a woman, which Levin could
not help looking at. It was the portrait of Anna, painted in
Italy by Mihailov. While Stepan Arkadyevitch went
behind the treillage, and the man’s voice which had been
speaking paused, Levin gazed at the portrait, which stood
out from the frame in the brilliant light thrown on it, and
he could not tear himself away from it. He positively
forgot where he was, and not even hearing what was said,
he could not take his eyes off the marvelous portrait. It
was not a picture, but a living, charming woman, with
black curling hair, with bare arms and shoulders, with a
pensive smile on the lips, covered with soft down;
triumphantly and softly she looked at him with eyes that
baffled him. She was not living only because she was more
beautiful than a living woman can be.
‘I am delighted!’ He heard suddenly near him a voice,
unmistakably addressing him, the voice of the very woman
he had been admiring in the portrait. Anna had come
from behind the treillage to meet him, and Levin saw in

1499 of 1759