(^11901191)
“Annushka,” she said, coming to a standstill before her, and she
stared at the maid, not knowing what to say to her.
“You meant to go and see Darya Alexandrovna,” said the girl, as
though she understood.
“Darya Alexandrovna? Yes, I’ll go.”
“Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back. He’s coming, he’ll be
here soon.” She took out her watch and looked at it. “But how could he
go away, leaving me in such a state? How can he live, without making
it up with me?” She went to the window and began looking into the
street. Judging by the time, he might be back now. But her calculations
might be wrong, and she began once more to recall when he had
started and to count the minutes.
At the moment when she had moved away to the big clock to
compare it with her watch, someone drove up. Glancing out of the
window, she saw his carriage. But no one came upstairs, and voices
could be heard below. It was the messenger who had come back in the
carriage. She went down to him.
“We didn’t catch the count. The count had driven off on the lower
city road.”
“What do you say? What!...” she said to the rosy, good-humored
Mihail, as he handed her back her note.
“Why, then, he has never received it!” she thought.
“Go with this note to Countess Vronskaya’s place, you know? and
bring an answer back immediately,” she said to the messenger.
“And I, what am I going to do?” she thought. “Yes, I’m going to
Dolly’s, that’s true or else I shall go out of my mind. Yes, and I can
telegraph, too.” And she wrote a telegram. “I absolutely must talk to
you; come at once.” After sending off the telegram, she went to dress.
When she was dressed and in her hat, she glanced again into the eyes
of the plump, comfortable-looking Annushka. There was unmistak-
able sympathy in those good-natured little gray eyes.
“Annushka, dear, what am I to do?” said Anna, sobbing and sink-
ing helplessly into a chair.
“Why fret yourself so, Anna Arkadyevna? Why, there’s nothing
out of the way. You drive out a little, and it’ll cheer you up,” said the
maid.
“Yes, I’m going,” said Anna, rousing herself and getting up. “And if
there’s a telegram while I’m away, send it on to Darya
Alexandrovna’s...but no, I shall be back myself.”
“Yes, I mustn’t think, I must do something, drive somewhere, and
most of all, get out of this house,” she said, feeling with terror the
strange turmoil going on in her own heart, and she made haste to go
out and get into the carriage.
“Where to?” asked Pyotr before getting onto the bow
“To Znamenka, the Oblonskys’.”
barré
(Barré)
#1