`Oh, it's a long and tedious story The whole business is in such an indefinite state with us. But the point is, she has been for three months in Moscow, where everyone knows her, waiting for the divorce; she goes out nowhere, sees no woman except Dolly, because, do you understand, she doesn't care to have people come as a favor. That fool Princess Varvara, even she has left her, considering this a breach of propriety. Well, you see, in such a position any other woman would not have found resources in herself. But you'll see how she has arranged her life - how calm, how dignified she is. To the left, in the alley opposite the church!' shouted Stepan Arkadyevich, leaning out of the window of the carriage. `Phew! How hot it is!' he said, in spite of twelve degrees of frost, flinging open his unbuttoned overcoat still more.
`But she has a daughter: no doubt she's busy looking after her?'
said Levin.
`I believe you picture every woman simply as a female, une couveuse ,' said Stepan Arkadyevich. `If she's occupied, it must be with her children. No, she brings her up capitally, I believe, but one doesn't hear about her. She's busy, in the first place, with what she writes.
I see you're smiling ironically, but you're wrong. She's writing a children's book, and doesn't talk about it to anyone, but she read it to me and Igave the manuscript to Vorkuev... you know, the publisher.... And he's an author himself too, I fancy. He understands those things, and he says it's a remarkable piece of work. But are you fancying she's a writing woman?
Not a bit of it. She's a woman with a heart, before everything, but you'll see. Now she has a little English girl with her, and a whole family she's looking after.'
`Oh, something in a philanthropic way?'
`Why, you will look at everything in the worst light. It's not from philanthropy, it's from the heart. They - that is, Vronsky - had a trainer, an Englishman, first-rate in his own line, but a drunkard. He's completely given up to drink - delirium tremens - and the family were cast on the world. She saw them, helped them, got more and more interested in them, and now the whole family is on her hands. But not by way of patronage, you know, helping with money; she's herself preparing the boys in Russian for the high school, and she's taken the little girl to live with her.
But you'll see her for yourself.'
The carriage drove into the courtyard, and Stepan Arkadyevich rang loudly at the entrance where a sleigh was standing.
And, without asking the servant who opened the door whether the lady were at home, Stepan Arkadyevich walked into the hall. Levin followed him, more and more doubtful whether he were doing right or wrong.
Looking at himself in the glass, Levin noticed that he was red in the face, but he felt certain he was not drunk, and he followed Stepan Arkadyevich up the carpeted stairs. At the top Stepan Arkadyevich inquired of the footman, who bowed to him as to an intimate friend, who was with Anna Arkadyevna, and received the answer that it was M. Vorkuev.
`Where are they?'
`In the study.'
Passing through the dining room, a room not very large, with dark paneled walls, Stepan Arkadyevich and Levin walked over the soft carpet to the half-dark study, lighted up by a single lamp with a big dark shade.
Another lamp with a reflector was hanging on the wall, lighting up a big full-length portrait of a woman, which Levin could not help looking at.
It was the portrait of Anna, painted in Italy by Mikhailov. While Stepan Arkadyevich went behind the treillage, and the man's voice which had been speaking paused, Levin gazed at the portrait, which stood out from the frame in the brilliant light thrown on it, and he could not tear himself away from it. He positively forgot where he was, and not even hearing what was said, he could not take his eyes off the marvelous portrait. It was not a picture, but a living, charming woman, with black curling hair, with bare arms and shoulders, with a pensive smile on the lips, covered with soft down; triumphantly and softly she looked at him with eyes that baffled him. She was not living, only because she was more beautiful than any living woman can be.
`I am delighted.' He heard suddenly near him a voice, unmistakably addressing him, the voice of the very woman he had been admiring in the portrait. Anna had come from behind the treillage to meet him, and Levin saw in the dim light of the study the very woman of the portrait, in a dark-blue gown of changeable blue, not in the same position nor with the same expression, but with the same perfection of beauty which the artist had caught in the portrait. She was less dazzling in reality, but, on the other hand, there was something fresh and seductive in the living woman which was not in the portrait.
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TOLSTOY: Anna Karenina Part 7, Chapter 10[Previous Chapter] [Table of Contents] Chapter 10 She had risen to meet him, without concealing her pleasure at seeing him;and in the quiet ease with which she held out her little and vigorous hand, introduced him to Vorkuev, and indicated a red-haired, pretty little girl who was sitting at work, calling her her pupil, Levin recognized and liked the manners of a woman of the great world, always self-possessed and natural.
`I am delighted, delighted,' she repeated, and on her lips these simple words took for Levin's ears a special significance. `I have known you and liked you for a long while, both from your friendship with Stiva and for your wife's sake.... I knew her for a very short time, but she left on me the impression of an exquisite flower - just a flower. And to think she will soon be a mother!'
She spoke easily and without haste, looking now and then from Levin to her brother, and Levin felt that the impression he was making was good, and he felt immediately at home, at ease and happy with her, as though he had known her from childhood.
