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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 231/828
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“
What
did
you
consider
unbecoming
?
”
she
repeated
.
“
The
despair
you
were
unable
to
conceal
at
the
accident
to
one
of
the
riders
.
”
He
waited
for
her
to
answer
,
but
she
was
silent
,
looking
straight
before
her
.
“
I
have
already
begged
you
so
to
conduct
yourself
in
society
that
even
malicious
tongues
can
find
nothing
to
say
against
you
.
There
was
a
time
when
I
spoke
of
your
inward
attitude
,
but
I
am
not
speaking
of
that
now
.
Now
I
speak
only
of
your
external
attitude
.
You
have
behaved
improperly
,
and
I
would
wish
it
not
to
occur
again
.
”
She
did
not
hear
half
of
what
he
was
saying
;
she
felt
panic
-
stricken
before
him
,
and
was
thinking
whether
it
was
true
that
Vronsky
was
not
killed
.
Was
it
of
him
they
were
speaking
when
they
said
the
rider
was
unhurt
,
but
the
horse
had
broken
its
back
?
She
merely
smiled
with
a
pretense
of
irony
when
he
finished
,
and
made
no
reply
,
because
she
had
not
heard
what
he
said
.
Alexey
Alexandrovitch
had
begun
to
speak
boldly
,
but
as
he
realized
plainly
what
he
was
speaking
of
,
the
dismay
she
was
feeling
infected
him
too
.
He
saw
the
smile
,
and
a
strange
misapprehension
came
over
him
.
“
She
is
smiling
at
my
suspicions
.
Yes
,
she
will
tell
me
directly
what
she
told
me
before
;
that
there
is
no
foundation
for
my
suspicions
,
that
it
’
s
absurd
.
”
At
that
moment
,
when
the
revelation
of
everything
was
hanging
over
him
,
there
was
nothing
he
expected
so
much
as
that
she
would
answer
mockingly
as
before
that
his
suspicions
were
absurd
and
utterly
groundless
.
So
terrible
to
him
was
what
he
knew
that
now
he
was
ready
to
believe
anything
.
But
the
expression
of
her
face
,
scared
and
gloomy
,
did
not
now
promise
even
deception
.
“
Possibly
I
was
mistaken
,
”
said
he
.
“
If
so
,
I
beg
your
pardon
.
”
“
No
,
you
were
not
mistaken
,
”
she
said
deliberately
,
looking
desperately
into
his
cold
face
.
“
You
were
not
mistaken
I
was
,
and
I
could
not
help
being
in
despair
.
I
hear
you
,
but
I
am
thinking
of
him
.
I
love
him
,
I
am
his
mistress
;
I
can
’
t
bear
you
;
I
’
m
afraid
of
you
,
and
I
hate
you
.
.
.
.
You
can
do
what
you
like
to
me
.
”
