Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Seven/Chapter 27
CHAPTER XXVII
"He is gone. It's all over," said Anna to herself, as she stood at the window; and the impression of blackness which she had felt in the night at the dying candle and that of the nightmare blending in one, filled her heart with chill horror. "No, I cannot endure this," she cried, and, crossing the room, she rang the bell violently. She was so afraid to stay alone, that, without waiting, she went to meet the servant.
"Find out where the count has gone."
The man replied that he had gone to the stables. "He left word that the carriage would return immediately if you wished to go out."
"Very well. Wait, I am going to write a note, send Mikhaïl with it to the stables. Have him hurry."She sat down and wrote:—
I am to blame. Come back. We must explain things. For Heaven's sake, come! I am frightened.
She sealed the note, and gave it to the servant; and, in her fear of being alone, she went to the nursery.
"Why, he is not the same as he was. Where are his blue eyes, and his pretty, timid smile?" was her first thought when she saw the plump and rosy little girl, with her dark curly hair, instead of Serozha, whom, in the confusion of her thoughts, she had expected to see.
The little girl was seated at the table, noisily tapping on it with a glass stopper. She looked unintelligently at her mother with two dark, currant-colored eyes. Answering the English nurse that she was well, and expected to go to the country the next day, Anna sat down beside the little girl, and began to spin the stopper from the carafe in front of her. The motion of the child's brows and her hearty laugh recalled Vronsky so vividly that Anna, choking down her sobs, rose suddenly, and hurried from the room.
"Is it possible that all is over? No, it cannot be," thought she. "He will return. But how can he explain that smile of his and his animation, after he spoke with her? But even if he doesn't explain it, I shall believe him; if I do not believe, there is only one thing left, and that I do not want."
She looked at her watch. Twelve minutes had gone by.
"Now he must have received my note, and must come back in ten minutes. And what if he should n't come back? No, but that's impossible. He must not find me with red eyes; I'll go and bathe my face. There, there! Have I brushed my hair yet?" She could not remember. She put her hands to her head. "Yes, I brushed my hair, but I really don't remember when it was." She actually did not believe that her hands told her truly, and she went to the pier-glass to see. Her hair was properly arranged, but she could not remember anything about it.
"Who is this?" she asked herself, as she caught sight of a glowing face and strangely brilliant eyes gazing at her from the mirror. "Yes, it is I." And she suddenly seemed to feel his kisses; and she shivered, and shrugged her shoulders. Then she put her hand to her lips, and kissed it. "It must be that I am going out of my mind; "and she fled to her room, which Annushka was putting in order.
"Annushka," she said, as she stood before the maid, not knowing what to say.
"Will you go to Darya Aleksandrovna's?" said the maid, as if reading her thoughts.
"To Darya Aleksandrovna's? Yes, I will go there. Fifteen minutes to go, fifteen to come back. He ought to be here." She looked at her watch. "Oh! how could he leave me in such a condition? How can he live, and not be at peace with me?" She went to the window, and looked out into the street; perhaps she had made a mistake in calculating, and she began over again to count the minutes since he left.
Just as she was about going to consult the great clock, so as to verify hers, a carriage stopped before the door. It was the count's calash, but no one came up-stairs, and she heard voices in the vestibule. It was the messenger, who came back in the calash. She hurried down to him.
"They were too late for the count. He had gone to the Nizhegorodsky railway station."
"What is the matter? what is it?" she asked, addressing the ruddy, jolly Mikhaïl, who handed her back the note. Oh, yes; he did not receive it, she remembered.
"Go with this note to the Countess Vronsky's in the country, you understand? and bring an answer back to me immediately!"
"But what shall I do?" she thought "Yes, I will go to see Dolly, to be sure, or else I shall go out of my mind. Ah! I might telegraph!" And she wrote the following despatch:—
I absolutely must speak to you. Come back immediately.
Having sent the telegram, she went and dressed; and then, with her hat on, she again looked at the stout, good-natured Annushka, whose little, gentle gray eyes were full of sympathy.
"Annushka, my dear, what am I to do?" murmured she, dropping into an arm-chair with a sob.
"You mustn't excite yourself so, Anna Arkadyevna. Go out for a drive; that will divert you. These things will happen," said the maid.
"Yes, I am going out," said Anna, collecting her thoughts, and rising. "If a despatch comes while I am gone, send it to Darya Aleksandrovna's. Or ....no, I will come back—I must keep from thinking. I must do something, and go out, and, above all, get out of this house," thought she, listening, with alarm, to the wild beating of her heart. She hastened out and got into the calash.
"Where do you wish to go?" asked Piotr, just before he took his seat on the box.
"To Znamenko, to the Oblonskys'."