-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Лев Толстой
-
- Анна Каренина
-
- Стр. 621/828
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
I
had
a
girl
baby
,
but
God
set
me
free
;
I
buried
her
last
Lent
.
”
“
Well
,
did
you
grieve
very
much
for
her
?
”
asked
Darya
Alexandrovna
.
“
Why
grieve
?
The
old
man
has
grandchildren
enough
as
it
is
.
It
was
only
a
trouble
.
No
working
,
nor
nothing
.
Only
a
tie
.
”
This
answer
had
struck
Darya
Alexandrovna
as
revolting
in
spite
of
the
good
-
natured
and
pleasing
face
of
the
young
woman
;
but
now
she
could
not
help
recalling
these
words
.
In
those
cynical
words
there
was
indeed
a
grain
of
truth
.
“
Yes
,
altogether
,
”
thought
Darya
Alexandrovna
,
looking
back
over
her
whole
existence
during
those
fifteen
years
of
her
married
life
,
“
pregnancy
,
sickness
,
mental
incapacity
,
indifference
to
everything
,
and
most
of
all
—
hideousness
.
Kitty
,
young
and
pretty
as
she
is
,
even
Kitty
has
lost
her
looks
;
and
I
when
I
’
m
with
child
become
hideous
,
I
know
it
.
The
birth
,
the
agony
,
the
hideous
agonies
,
that
last
moment
.
.
.
then
the
nursing
,
the
sleepless
nights
,
the
fearful
pains
.
.
.
.
”
Darya
Alexandrovna
shuddered
at
the
mere
recollection
of
the
pain
from
sore
breasts
which
she
had
suffered
with
almost
every
child
.
“
Then
the
children
’
s
illnesses
,
that
everlasting
apprehension
;
then
bringing
them
up
;
evil
propensities
”
(
she
thought
of
little
Masha
’
s
crime
among
the
raspberries
)
,
“
education
,
Latin
—
it
’
s
all
so
incomprehensible
and
difficult
.
And
on
the
top
of
it
all
,
the
death
of
these
children
.
”
And
there
rose
again
before
her
imagination
the
cruel
memory
,
that
always
tore
her
mother
’
s
heart
,
of
the
death
of
her
last
little
baby
,
who
had
died
of
croup
;
his
funeral
,
the
callous
indifference
of
all
at
the
little
pink
coffin
,
and
her
own
torn
heart
,
and
her
lonely
anguish
at
the
sight
of
the
pale
little
brow
with
its
projecting
temples
,
and
the
open
,
wondering
little
mouth
seen
in
the
coffin
at
the
moment
when
it
was
being
covered
with
the
little
pink
lid
with
a
cross
braided
on
it
.
“
And
all
this
,
what
’
s
it
for
?
What
is
to
come
of
it
all
?
That
I
’
m
wasting
my
life
,
never
having
a
moment
’
s
peace
,
either
with
child
,
or
nursing
a
child
,
forever
irritable
,
peevish
,
wretched
myself
and
worrying
others
,
repulsive
to
my
husband
,
while
the
children
are
growing
up
unhappy
,
badly
educated
,
and
penniless
.
Even
now
,
if
it
weren
’
t
for
spending
the
summer
at
the
Levins
’
,
I
don
’
t
know
how
we
should
be
managing
to
live
.
Of
course
Kostya
and
Kitty
have
so
much
tact
that
we
don
’
t
feel
it
;
but
it
can
’
t
go
on
.
They
’
ll
have
children
,
they
won
’
t
be
able
to
keep
us
;
it
’
s
a
drag
on
them
as
it
is
.
How
is
papa
,
who
has
hardly
anything
left
for
himself
,
to
help
us
?
So
that
I
can
’
t
even
bring
the
children
up
by
myself
,
and
may
find
it
hard
with
the
help
of
other
people
,
at
the
cost
of
humiliation
.
Why
,
even
if
we
suppose
the
greatest
good
luck
,
that
the
children
don
’
t
die
,
and
I
bring
them
up
somehow
.
At
the
very
best
they
’
ll
simply
be
decent
people
.
That
’
s
all
I
can
hope
for
.
And
to
gain
simply
that
—
what
agonies
,
what
toil
!
.
.
.
One
’
s
whole
life
ruined
!
”
Again
she
recalled
what
the
young
peasant
woman
had
said
,
and
again
she
was
revolted
at
the
thought
;
but
she
could
not
help
admitting
that
there
was
a
grain
of
brutal
truth
in
the
words
.
“
Is
it
far
now
,
Mihail
?
”
Darya
Alexandrovna
asked
the
counting
-
house
clerk
,
to
turn
her
mind
from
thoughts
that
were
frightening
her
.
“
From
this
village
,
they
say
,
it
’
s
five
miles
.
”
The
carriage
drove
along
the
village
street
and
onto
a
bridge
.
