Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART SIX CHAPTER 11
“Well, come into the garden.”
In the garden they came upon a peasant weeding the path. And no longer considering
that the peasant could see her tear-stained and his agitated face, that they
looked like people fleeing from some disaster, they went on with rapid steps, feeling
that they must speak out and clear up misunderstandings, must be alone together,
and so get rid of the misery they were both feeling.
“We can’t go on like this! It’s misery! I am wretched; you are wretched. What
for?” she said, when they had at last reached a solitary garden seat at a turn in the
lime tree avenue.
“But tell me one thing: was there in his tone anything unseemly, not nice, humiliatingly
horrible?” he said, standing before her again in the same position with his
clenched fists on his chest, as he had stood before her that night.
“Yes,” she said in a shaking voice; “but, Kostya, surely you see I’m not to blame?
All the morning I’ve been trying to take a tone...but such people ...Why did he come?
How happy we were!” she said, breathless with the sobs that shook her.
Although nothing had been pursuing them, and there was nothing to run away
from, and they could not possibly have found anything very delightful on that garden
seat, the gardener saw with astonishment that they passed him on their way
home with comforted and radiant faces.
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