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- Лев Толстой
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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 145/828
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The
conversation
began
amiably
,
but
just
because
it
was
too
amiable
,
it
came
to
a
stop
again
.
They
had
to
have
recourse
to
the
sure
,
never
-
failing
topic
—
gossip
.
“
Don
’
t
you
think
there
’
s
something
Louis
Quinze
about
Tushkevitch
?
”
he
said
,
glancing
towards
a
handsome
,
fair
-
haired
young
man
,
standing
at
the
table
.
“
Oh
,
yes
!
He
’
s
in
the
same
style
as
the
drawing
-
room
and
that
’
s
why
it
is
he
’
s
so
often
here
.
”
This
conversation
was
maintained
,
since
it
rested
on
allusions
to
what
could
not
be
talked
of
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
.
