soon as I have taken out these unnecessary things," she added, giving something more to Annushka, whose arms were already laden with a heap of articles.
Vronsky was eating his beefsteak when she entered the dining-room.
"You can't realize how odious these apartments have become to me," she said, as she sat down by him. "Nothing is more detestable than these chambres garnies. There is no individuality in them, no soul. The clock, the curtains, and especially the wall-papers—they are a cauchemar. I think of Vozdvizhenskoye as of the promised land. Shall you not send on the horses in advance?"
"No, they will follow us. But were you going anywhere?"
"I wanted to go to the Wilsons'; I must get a gown. So it is decided that we go to-morrow, is it?" she added, in a joyous tone. But suddenly her face changed. Vronsky's valet came in, and asked him to sign a receipt for a despatch from Petersburg. Still there was nothing remarkable in Vronsky's receiving a telegram, but he acted as if he wanted to conceal something from her; and, saying that he would sign it in his library, he turned to her:—
"To-morrow without fail I shall have finished everything."
"From whom is the despatch?" she asked, not hearing him.
"From Stiva," answered the count, reluctantly.
"Why did n't you show it to me? What secret can there be between Stiva and me?"
Vronsky called the valet back, and ordered him to bring in the telegram.
"I did not care to show it because Stiva has a passion for telegraphing. Why need he send me a despatch to tell me that nothing was decided?"
"About the divorce?"
"Yes. He maintains that he cannot get a definite answer. Here, see for yourself."
Anna took the despatch with a trembling hand. It read as Vronsky had told her. At the end it said:—
