Page 295 - ANNA KARENINA

Anna Karenina

This conversation was maintained, since it rested on
allusions to what could not be talked on in that room—
that is to say, of the relations of Tushkevitch with their
hostess.

Round the samovar and the hostess the conversation
had been meanwhile vacillating in just the same way
between three inevitable topics: the latest piece of public
news, the theater, and scandal. It, too, came finally to rest
on the last topic, that is, ill-natured gossip.
‘Have you heard the Maltishtcheva woman—the
mother, not the daughter—has ordered a costume in
diable rose color?’
‘Nonsense! No, that’s too lovely!’
‘I wonder that with her sense—for she’s not a fool, you
know— that she doesn’t see how funny she is.’
Everyone had something to say in censure or ridicule of
the luckless Madame Maltishtcheva, and the conversation
crackled merrily, like a burning faggot-stack.
The husband of Princess Betsy, a good-natured fat man,
an ardent collector of engravings, hearing that his wife had
visitors, came into the drawing room before going to his
club. Stepping noiselessly over the thick rugs, he went up
to Princess Myakaya.
‘How did you like Nilsson?’ he asked.

294 of 1759