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.




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