Hearing that, Anna quickly sat down and covered her face with her fan. Alexei Alexandrovich could see that she was weeping and was unable to hold back not only her tears but the sobs that heaved her bosom. Alexei Alexandrovich shielded her, giving her time to recover.
‘For the third time I offer you my arm,’ he said after a short while, addressing her. Anna looked at him and did not know what to say. Princess Betsy came to her aid.
‘No, Alexei Alexandrovich, I brought Anna here and promised to take her back,’ Betsy interfered.
‘Excuse me, Princess,’ he said, smiling courteously but looking her firmly in the eye, ‘but I see that Anna is not quite well, and I wish her to leave with me.’
Anna glanced fearfully at him, obediently stood up and placed her hand on her husband’s arm.
‘I’ll send to him to find out and get word to you,’ Betsy whispered to her.
On the way out of the pavilion, Alexei Alexandrovich, as always, talked with people he met, and Anna also had, as always, to respond and talk; but she was not herself and walked at her husband’s side as if in a dream.
‘Hurt or not? Is it true? Will he come or not? Will I see him tonight?’ she thought.
She silently got into Alexei Alexandrovich’s carriage, and they silently drove away from the crowd of vehicles. Despite all he had seen, Alexei Alexandrovich still did not allow himself to think of his wife’s real situation. He saw only the external signs. He saw that she had behaved improperly and considered it his duty to tell her so. Yet it was very hard for him not to say more, but to say just that. He opened his mouth in order to tell her how improperly she had behaved, but involuntarily said something quite different.
‘How inclined we all are, though, to these cruel spectacles,’ he said. ‘I observe ...’
‘What? I don’t understand,’ Anna said contemptuously.
He was offended and at once began saying what he had wanted to.
‘I must tell you,’ he said.
‘Here it comes - the talk,’ she thought and became frightened.
‘I must tell you that you behaved improperly today,’ he said to her in French.
‘In what way did I behave improperly?’ she said loudly, quickly turning her head to him and looking straight into his eyes, now not at all with the former deceptive gaiety, but with a determined look, behind which she barely concealed the fear she felt.
‘Do not forget,’ he said to her, pointing to the open window facing the coachman.
He got up and raised the window.
‘What did you find improper?’ she repeated.
‘The despair you were unable to conceal when one of the riders fell.’
He waited for her to protest; but she was silent, looking straight ahead of her.
‘I have asked you before to conduct yourself in society so that wicked tongues can say nothing against you. There was a time when I spoke of our inner relations; now I am not speaking of them. Now I am speaking of our external relations. You conducted yourself improperly, and I do not wish it to be repeated.’
She did not hear half of his words, she felt afraid of him and was wondering whether it was true that Vronsky had not been hurt. Was it of him they had said that he was well, but the horse had broken its back? She only smiled with false mockery when he finished and made no reply, because she had not heard what he said. Alexei Alexandrovich had begun speaking boldly, but when he understood clearly what he was speaking about, the fear that she experienced communicated itself to him. He saw this smile and a strange delusion came over him.
‘She’s smiling at my suspicions. Yes, she will presently tell me what she said to me the other time: that there are no grounds for my suspicions, that they are ridiculous.’
Now, when the disclosure of everything was hanging over him, he wished for nothing so much as that she would mockingly answer him, just as before, that his suspicions were ridiculous and had no grounds. So dreadful was what he knew, that he was now ready to believe anything. But the expression of her face, frightened and gloomy, did not promise even deceit.
‘Perhaps I am mistaken,’ he said. ‘In that case I beg your pardon.’
‘No, you are not mistaken,’ she said slowly, looking desperately into his cold face. ‘You are not mistaken. I was and could not help being in despair. I listen to you and think about him. I love him, I am his mistress, I cannot stand you, I’m afraid of you, I hate you ... Do what you like with me.’
And, throwing herself back into the corner of the carriage, she began to sob, covering her face with her hands. Alexei Alexandrovich did not stir or change the straight direction of his gaze. But his entire face suddenly acquired the solemn immobility of a dead man, and that expression did not change during the whole drive to their country house. As they approached the house, he turned his head to her with the same expression.
‘So be it! But I demand that the outward conventions of propriety be observed until’ - his voice trembled - ‘until I take measures to secure my honour and inform you of them.’
