Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART ONE CHAPTER 22
Kitty had been seeing Anna every day; she adored her, and had pictured her invariably
in lilac. But now seeing her in black, she felt that she had not fully seen
her charm. She saw her now as someone quite new and surprising to her. Now she
understood that Anna could not have been in lilac, and that her charm was just that
she always stood out against her attire, that her dress could never be noticeable on
her. And her black dress, with its sumptuous lace, was not noticeable on her; it was
only the frame, and all that was seen was she–simple, natural, elegant, and at the
same time gay and eager.
She was standing holding herself, as always, very erect, and when Kitty drew
near the group she was speaking to the master of the house, her head slightly turned
towards him.
“No, I don’t throw stones,” she was saying, in answer to something, “though I
can’t understand it,” she went on, shrugging her shoulders, and she turned at once
with a soft smile of protection towards Kitty. With a flying, feminine glance she
scanned her attire, and made a movement of her head, hardly perceptible, but understood
by Kitty, signifying approval of her dress and her looks. “You came into
the room dancing,” she added.
“This is one of my most faithful supporters,” said Korsunsky, bowing to Anna
Arkadyevna, whom he had not yet seen. “The princess helps to make balls happy
and successful. Anna Arkadyevna, a waltz?” he said, bending down to her.
“Why, have you met?” inquired their host.
“Is there anyone we have not met? My wife and I are like white wolves–everyone
knows us,” answered Korsunsky. “A waltz, Anna Arkadyevna?”
“I don’t dance when it’s possible not to dance,” she said.
“But tonight it’s impossible,” answered Korsunsky.
At that instant Vronsky came up.
“Well, since it’s impossible tonight, let us start,” she said, not noticing Vronsky’s
bow, and she hastily put her hand on Korsunsky’s shoulder.
“What is she vexed with him about?” thought Kitty, discerning that Anna had
intentionally not responded to Vronsky’s bow. Vronsky went up to Kitty reminding
her of the first quadrille, and expressing his regret that he had not seen her all this
time. Kitty gazed in admiration at Anna waltzing, and listened to him. She expected
him to ask her for a waltz, but he did not, and she glanced wonderingly at him. He
flushed slightly, and hurriedly asked her to waltz, but he had only just put his arm
round her waist and taken the first step when the music suddenly stopped. Kitty
looked into his face, which was so close to her own, and long afterwards–for several
years after–that look, full of love, to which he made no response, cut her to the heart
with an agony of shame.
“Pardon! pardon! Waltz! waltz!” shouted Korsunsky from the other side of the
room, and seizing the first young lady he came across he began dancing himself.
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