"No, that is horrible! She will no longer be any one's wife. She will be lost!"
"What can I do?" replied Karenin, raising his shoulders and his eyebrows; and the memory of his wife's last offense so angered him that he became as cool as at the beginning of the conversation. "I am very grateful to you for your sympathy, but I must go," he added, rising.
"No, wait a moment! you must not give her up: listen to me; I speak from experience. I, too, was married, and my husband deceived me: in my jealousy and indignation, I wished to abandon everything; but I considered the matter, and who saved me? Anna! Now I am living again. Now my children are growing up, my husband has returned to his family, regrets his wrong-doing, is growing better, nobler. I live, I have forgiven him; and you ought to forgive her!"
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch listened; but Dolly's words had no effect on him. Again in his soul arose the anger of that day when he decided on a divorce. He shook himself and spoke in a loud, penetrating voice:—
"I cannot, nor do I wish to forgive her. It would be unjust. I have done what was next to impossible for this woman, and she has trampled everything into the mire, which seems to be her element. I am not a bad man, and I have never hated anybody before; but her I hate with all the strength of my soul, and I cannot forgive her, for I hate her too much for all the wrong she has done me!" and tears of anger trembled in his voice.
"Love them that hate you," murmured Dolly, almost ashamed.
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch smiled scornfully. He was familiar with these words, but they did not apply to his case.
"We can love those who hate us, but to love those whom we hate is impossible. I beg your pardon for having troubled you: sufficient unto every man is his own burden." And having recovered his self-possession, AlekseÏ Aleksandrovitch calmly took leave of Dolly, and went away.
