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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 439/828
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After
accompanying
Betsy
to
the
outside
hall
,
once
more
kissing
her
hand
above
the
glove
,
at
the
point
where
the
pulse
beats
,
and
murmuring
to
her
such
unseemly
nonsense
that
she
did
not
know
whether
to
laugh
or
be
angry
,
Stepan
Arkadyevitch
went
to
his
sister
.
He
found
her
in
tears
.
Although
he
happened
to
be
bubbling
over
with
good
spirits
,
Stepan
Arkadyevitch
immediately
and
quite
naturally
fell
into
the
sympathetic
,
poetically
emotional
tone
which
harmonized
with
her
mood
.
He
asked
her
how
she
was
,
and
how
she
had
spent
the
morning
.
“
Very
,
very
miserably
.
Today
and
this
morning
and
all
past
days
and
days
to
come
,
”
she
said
.
“
I
think
you
’
re
giving
way
to
pessimism
.
You
must
rouse
yourself
,
you
must
look
life
in
the
face
.
I
know
it
’
s
hard
,
but
.
.
.
.
”
“
I
have
heard
it
said
that
women
love
men
even
for
their
vices
,
”
Anna
began
suddenly
,
“
but
I
hate
him
for
his
virtues
.
I
can
’
t
live
with
him
.
Do
you
understand
?
the
sight
of
him
has
a
physical
effect
on
me
,
it
makes
me
beside
myself
.
I
can
’
t
,
I
can
’
t
live
with
him
.
What
am
I
to
do
?
I
have
been
unhappy
,
and
used
to
think
one
couldn
’
t
be
more
unhappy
,
but
the
awful
state
of
things
I
am
going
through
now
,
I
could
never
have
conceived
.
Would
you
believe
it
,
that
knowing
he
’
s
a
good
man
,
a
splendid
man
,
that
I
’
m
not
worth
his
little
finger
,
still
I
hate
him
.
I
hate
him
for
his
generosity
.
And
there
’
s
nothing
left
for
me
but
.
.
.
.
”
She
would
have
said
death
,
but
Stepan
Arkadyevitch
would
not
let
her
finish
.
“
You
are
ill
and
overwrought
,
”
he
said
;
“
believe
me
,
you
’
re
exaggerating
dreadfully
.
There
’
s
nothing
so
terrible
in
it
.
”
And
Stepan
Arkadyevitch
smiled
.
No
one
else
in
Stepan
Arkadyevitch
’
s
place
,
having
to
do
with
such
despair
,
would
have
ventured
to
smile
(
the
smile
would
have
seemed
brutal
)
;
but
in
his
smile
there
was
so
much
of
sweetness
and
almost
feminine
tenderness
that
his
smile
did
not
wound
,
but
softened
and
soothed
.
His
gentle
,
soothing
words
and
smiles
were
as
soothing
and
softening
as
almond
oil
.
And
Anna
soon
felt
this
.
“
No
,
Stiva
,
”
she
said
,
“
I
’
m
lost
,
lost
!
worse
than
lost
!
I
can
’
t
say
yet
that
all
is
over
;
on
the
contrary
,
I
feel
that
it
’
s
not
over
.
I
’
m
an
overstrained
string
that
must
snap
.
But
it
’
s
not
ended
yet
.
.
.
and
it
will
have
a
fearful
end
.
”
