She was talking a long while with him. But what of that? Surely women in society can talk to whom they please. And then, jealousy means debasing both her and myself,' he soliloquized as he entered her boudoir; but this dictum, which had always had such weight with him before, had now no weight and no meaning whatsoever. And from the bedroom door he turned back again;but as he entered the dark drawing room some inner voice told him that it was not so, and that if others had noticed, it meant that there was something. And he said to himself again in the dining room: `Yes, I must decide and put a stop to it, and express my views....' And again at the turn in the drawing room he asked himself: `Decide how?' And again he asked inwardly: `What has occurred?' And answered: `Nothing,' and recollected that jealousy was a feeling insulting to his wife; but again in the drawing room he was convinced that something had happened. His thoughts, like his body, were describing a complete circle, without alighting upon anything new. He noticed this, rubbed his forehead, and sat down in her boudoir.
There, looking at her table, with the malachite blotting case lying at the top, and an unfinished letter, his thoughts suddenly changed.
He began to think of her, of what her thoughts and emotions must be. For the first time he pictured vividly to himself her personal life, her ideas, her desires, and the thought that she could and must have a separate life of her own seemed to him so appalling that he made haste to drive it away.
It was the chasm which he was afraid to peep into. To put himself in thought and feeling in another person's place was a spiritual action foreign to Alexei Alexandrovich. He looked on this spiritual action as a harmful and dangerous abuse of the fancy.
`And the worst of it all,' thought he, `is that just now, at the very moment when my great work is approaching completion' (he was thinking of the project he was bringing forward at the time), `when I stand in need of all my mental peace and all my energies - just now this stupid worry has to come falling about my ears. But what's to be done? I'm not one of those men who submit to uneasiness and worry without having the force of character to face them.'
`I must think this over, come to a decision, and put it out of my mind,' he said aloud.
`The question of her feelings, of what has passed and may be passing in her soul - that's not my affair; that's the affair of her conscience, and falls under the head of religion,' he said to himself, feeling consolation in the sense that he had found to which division of regulating principles this new circumstance could be properly referred.
`And so,' Alexei Alexandrovich said to himself, `questions as to her feelings, and so on, are questions for her conscience, with which I can have nothing to do. My duty is clearly defined. As the head of the family, I am a person bound in duty to guide her, and, consequently, in part the person responsible; I am bound to point out the danger I perceive, to warn her, even to use my authority. I ought to speak plainly to her.'
And everything that he would say tonight to his wife took clear shape in Alexei Alexandrovich's head. Thinking over what he would say, he somewhat regretted that he should have to use his time and mental powers for domestic consumption, with so little to show for it, but, in spite of that, the form and consistency of the speech before him shaped itself as clearly and distinctly in his head as a ministerial report. `I must speak on, and express fully, the following points: first, an explanation of the value to be attached to public opinion and to decorum; secondly, an explanation of the religious significance of marriage; thirdly, if need be, a reference to the calamity possibly ensuing to our son; fourthly, a reference to the unhappiness likely to result to herself.' And, interlacing his fingers, the palms downward, Alexei Alexandrovich stretched his hands, and the joints of the fingers cracked.
This gesture, this bad habit - the joining of his hands cracking his fingers, always soothed him, and gave precision to his thoughts, so needful to him now. There was the sound of a carriage driving up to the front door. Alexei Alexandrovich halted in the middle of the room.
A woman's step was heard mounting the stairs. Alexei Alexandrovich, ready for his speech, stood squeezing his crossed fingers, waiting for their crack to come again. One joint cracked.
Already, from the sound of light steps on the stairs, he was aware that she was close, and though he was satisfied with his speech, he felt frightened because of the explanation confronting him.
[Next Chapter] [Table of Contents]TOLSTOY: Anna Karenina Part 2, Chapter 09[Previous Chapter] [Table of Contents] Chapter 9 Anna came in with her head bent, playing with the tassels of her hood.
Her face was glowing with a vivid glow; but this glow was not one of joyousness - it recalled the fearful glow of a conflagration in the midst of a dark night. On seeing her husband, Anna raised her head and smiled, as though she had just waked up.
`You're not in bed? What a miracle!' she said throwing off her hood and, without stopping, she went on into the dressing room. `It's late, Alexei Alexandrovich,' she said, from behind the door.
`Anna, I must have a talk with you.'
`With me?' she said, wonderingly. She came out from the door, and looked at him. `Why, what is it? What about?' she asked, sitting down.
`Well, let's talk, if it's so necessary. But it would be better to go to sleep.'
Anna was saying whatever came to her tongue, and marveled, hearing herself, at her own capacity for lying. How simple and natural were her words, and how likely that she was simply sleepy She felt herself clad in an impenetrable armor of falsehood. She felt that some unseen force had come to her aid and was supporting her.
`Anna, I must warn you,' he began.
`Warn me? she said. `Of what?
