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."

And dropping back into the corner of the carriage, she broke into

sobs, hiding her face in her hands. Alexey Alexandrovitch did

not stir, and kept looking straight before him. But his whole

face suddenly bore the solemn rigidity of the dead, and his

expression did not change during the whole time of the drive

home. On reaching the house he turned his head to her, still

with the same expression.

"Very well! But I expect a strict observance of the external

forms of propriety till such time"--his voice shook--"as I may

take measures to secure my honor and communicate them to you."




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