The minister might flourish the knout and proclaim the Siberian
banishment over the trembling people; the scourged might howl, and the
banished might lament, the great and powerful might dispose of the souls
and bodies of their serfs; rare honesty might be oppressed by consuming
usury; offices, honors, and titles might be gambled for; justice
and punishment might be bought and sold; vice and immorality might
universally prevail--Anna would not know it. She would neither see nor
hear any thing of this outside world! The palace is her world, in which
she is happy, in which she revels!
Ah, that charming, silent little boudoir, with is soft Turkish carpet,
with its elastic divans and heavily curtained windows and doors--that
little boudoir is now her paradise, the temple of her happiness! In it
she lingers, and in it is she blessed. There she reposes, dreaming of
past delightful hours, or smiling with the intoxication of the still
more delightful present in the arms of the one she loves.