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Kitty felt that Anna was looking at her with hostile eyes. She
ascribed this hostility to the awkward position in which Anna, who had
once patronized her, must feel with her now, and she felt sorry for her.
They talked of Kitty’s illness, of the baby, of Stiva, but it was obvi-
ous that nothing interested Anna.
“I came to say good-bye to you,” she said, getting up.
“Oh, when are you going?”
But again not answering, Anna turned to Kitty.
“Yes, I am very glad to have seen you,” she said with a smile. “I
have heard so much of you from everyone, even from your husband.
He came to see me, and I liked him exceedingly,” she said, unmistak-
ably with malicious intent. “Where is he?”
“He has gone back to the country,” said Kitty, blushing.
“Remember me to him, be sure you do.”
“I’ll be sure to!” Kitty said naively, looking compassionately into her
eyes.
“So good-bye, Dolly.” And kissing Dolly and shaking hands with
Kitty, Anna went out hurriedly.
“She’s just the same and just as charming! She’s very lovely!” said
Kitty, when she was alone with her sister. “But there’s something
piteous about her. Awfully piteous!”
“Yes, there’s something unusual about her today,” said Dolly.
“When I went with her into the hall, I fancied she was almost crying.”
Chapter 29.
Anna got into the carriage again in an even worse frame of mind
than when she set out from home. To her previous tortures was added
now that sense of mortification and of being an outcast which she had
felt so distinctly on meeting Kitty.
“Where to? Home?” asked Pyotr.
“Yes, home,” she said, not even thinking now where she was going.
“How they looked at me as something dreadful, incomprehensible,
and curious! What can he be telling the other with such warmth?” she
thought, staring at two men who walked by. “Can one ever tell anyone
what one is feeling? I meant to tell Dolly, and it’s a good thing I didn’t
tell her. How pleased she would have been at my misery! She would
have concealed it, but her chief feeling would have been delight at my
being punished for the happiness she envied me for. Kitty, she would
have been even more pleased. How I can see through her! She knows
I was more than usually sweet to her husband. And she’s jealous and
hates me. And she despises me. In her eyes I’m an immoral woman. If
I were an immoral woman I could have made her husband fall in love
with me ...if I’d cared to. And, indeed, I did care to. There’s someone
who’s pleased with himself,” she thought, as she saw a fat, rubicund
gentleman coming towards her. He took her for an acquaintance, and
lifted his glossy hat above his bald, glossy head, and then perceived his