Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART THREE CHAPTER 18
he tried, like a shrewd man and a man of the world, to be particularly cordial with
her, the wife of his enemy.
“‘Nothing,”’ he put in with a subtle smile, “that’s the very best way. I told you
long ago,” he said, turning to Liza Merkalova, “that if you don’t want to be bored,
you mustn’t think you’re going to be bored. It’s just as you mustn’t be afraid of
not being able to fall asleep, if you’re afraid of sleeplessness. That’s just what Anna
Arkadyevna has just said.”
“I should be very glad if I had said it, for it’s not only clever but true,” said Anna,
smiling.
“No, do tell me why it is one can’t go to sleep, and one can’t help being bored?”
“To sleep well one ought to work, and to enjoy oneself one ought to work too.”
“What am I to work for when my work is no use to anybody? And I can’t and
won’t knowingly make a pretense about it.”
“You’re incorrigible,” said Stremov, not looking at her, and he spoke again to
Anna. As he rarely met Anna, he could say nothing but commonplaces to her, but
he said those commonplaces as to when she was returning to Petersburg, and how
fond Countess Lidia Ivanovna was of her, with an expression which suggested that
he longed with his whole soul to please her and show his regard for her and even
more than that.
Tushkevitch came in, announcing that the party were awaiting the other players
to begin croquet.
“No, don’t go away, please don’t,” pleaded Liza Merkalova, hearing that Anna
was going. Stremov joined in her entreaties.
“It’s too violent a transition,” he said, “to go from such company to old Madame
Vrede. And besides, you will only give her a chance for talking scandal, while here
you arouse none but such different feelings of the highest and most opposite kind,”
he said to her.
Anna pondered for an instant in uncertainty. This shrewd man’s flattering words,
the naïve, childlike affection shown her by Liza Merkalova, and all the social atmosphere
she was used to,– it was all so easy, and what was in store for her was so
difficult, that she was for a minute in uncertainty whether to remain, whether to put
off a little longer the painful moment of explanation. But remembering what was in
store for her alone at home, if she did not come to some decision, remembering that
gesture–terrible even in memory–when she had clutched her hair in both hands–she
said good-bye and went away.
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