This Mlle Varenka was not really past her first youth, but was, as it were, a being without youth: she might have been nineteen, she might have been thirty. If one studied her features, she was more beautiful than plain, despite her sickly complexion. She would also have been of good build, if it had not been for the excessive leanness of her body and a head much too large for her medium height; but she must not have been attractive to men. She was like a beautiful flower which, while still full of petals, is scentless and no longer blooming. Besides that, she also could not be attractive to men because she lacked what Kitty had in over-abundance - the restrained fire of life and an awareness of her attractiveness.
She always seemed to be busy doing something that could not be doubted, and therefore it seemed she could not be interested in anything outside it. By this contrast with herself she especially attracted Kitty. Kitty felt that in her, in her way of life, she would find a model for what she now sought so tormentingly: interests in life, virtues in life, outside the social relations of a girl with men, which Kitty found repulsive, picturing them now as a disgraceful exhibition of wares awaiting their buyers. The more Kitty observed her unknown friend, the more convinced she was that this girl was that same perfect being she pictured to herself, and the more she wished to make her acquaintance.
The two girls met several times a day and at each meeting Kitty’s eyes said: ‘Who are you? What are you? Are you truly the lovely being I imagine you to be? But for God’s sake don’t think,’ her eyes added, ‘that I would allow myself to force an acquaintance. I simply admire you and love you.’ ‘I love you, too, and you are very, very sweet. And I would love you still more if I had time,’ the unknown girl’s eyes answered. And indeed Kitty saw that she was always busy: she would take the children of a Russian family home from the springs, or bring a rug for an ailing woman and wrap her up, or try to divert some irritated patient, or choose and buy pastries for someone’s coffee.
Soon after the Shcherbatskys’ arrival, two more people appeared at the morning session, attracting general and unfriendly attention. These were a very tall, stoop-shouldered man with enormous hands, in an old coat that was too short for him, with dark, naïve and at the same time frightening eyes, and a nice-looking, slightly pockmarked woman, very poorly and tastelessly dressed. Having recognized these people as Russians, Kitty had already begun putting together in her imagination a beautiful and moving romance about them. But the princess, learning from the
It seemed to her that his big, frightening eyes, which followed her persistently, expressed a feeling of hatred and mockery, and she tried to avoid meeting him.
XXXI
It was a nasty day, rain fell all morning, and patients with umbrellas crowded into the gallery.
Kitty was walking with her mother and the Moscow colonel, who gaily showed off his little European frock coat, bought ready-to-wear in Frankfurt. They were walking along one side of the gallery, trying to avoid Levin, who was walking along the other side. Varenka, in her dark dress and a black hat with the brim turned down, was walking with a blind Frenchwoman the whole length of the gallery, and each time she met Kitty, they exchanged friendly looks.
‘Mama, may I speak to her?’ said Kitty, who was watching her unknown friend and noticed that she was approaching the springs and that they might come together there.
‘If you want to so much, I’ll find out about her first and approach her myself,’ her mother replied. ‘What do you find so special about her? A lady’s companion, she must be. If you wish, I’ll make the acquaintance of Mme Stahl. I knew her
Kitty knew that the princess was offended that Mme Stahl seemed to avoid making her acquaintance. She did not insist.
‘A wonder, such a dear!’ she said, looking at Varenka, just as she was handing a glass to the Frenchwoman. ‘Look, it’s all so simple and sweet.’
‘I find these
