Page 410 - ANNA KARENINA

Anna Karenina

her in ecstasy. But, directly he would have made a step to
come nearer to her, she was aware of his presence, pushed
away the watering pot, and turned her flushed face
towards him.

‘What’s the matter? You are ill?’ he said to her in
French, going up to her. He would have run to her, but
remembering that there might be spectators, he looked
round towards the balcony door, and reddened a little, as
he always reddened, feeling that he had to be afraid and be
on his guard.
‘No, I’m quite well,’ she said, getting up and pressing
his outstretched hand tightly. ‘I did not expect...thee.’
‘Mercy! what cold hands!’ he said.
‘You startled me,’ she said. ‘I’m alone, and expecting
Seryozha; he’s out for a walk; they’ll come in from this
side.’
But, in spite of her efforts to be calm, her lips were
quivering.
‘Forgive me for coming, but I couldn’t pass the day
without seeing you,’ he went on, speaking French, as he
always did to avoid using the stiff Russian plural form, so
impossibly frigid between them, and the dangerously
intimate singular.
‘Forgive you? I’m so glad!’

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