Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART SEVEN CHAPTER 27
“What is it? Why, I’m going out of my mind!” and she went into her bedroom,
where Annushka was tidying the room.
“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 unmistakable
sympathy in those good-natured little gray eyes.
“Annushka, dear, what am I to do?” said Anna, sobbing and sinking 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 box.
“To Znamenka, the Oblonskys’.”
692