The sound of the footman's steps forced her to rouse herself,

and, hiding her face from him, she pretended to be writing.

"The courier asks if there's an answer," the footman announced.

"An answer? Yes," said Anna. "Let him wait. I'll ring."

"What can I write?" she thought. "What can I decide upon

alone? What do I know? What do I want? What is there I care

for?" Again she felt that her soul was beginning to be split in

two. She was terrified again at this feeling, and clutched at

the first pretext for doing something which might divert her

thoughts from herself. "I ought to see Alexey" (so she called

Vronsky in her thoughts); "no one but he can tell me what I ought

to do. I'll go to Betsy's, perhaps I shall see him there," she

said to herself, completely forgetting that when she had told him

the day before that she was not going to Princess Tverskaya's, he

had said that in that case he should not go either. She went up

to the table, wrote to her husband, "I have received your letter.

--A."; and, ringing the bell, gave it to the footman.

"We are not going," she said to Annushka, as she came in.

"Not going at all?"

"No; don't unpack till tomorrow, and let the carriage wait. I'm

going to the princess's."

"Which dress am I to get ready?"




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