Anna Karenina полностью

He had not known Anna before and was struck by her beauty and still more by the simplicity with which she accepted her situation. She blushed when Vronsky brought him in, and this childlike colour that came over her open and beautiful face he liked very much. But he especially liked that she at once, as if on purpose, called Vronsky simply Alexei, so that there could be no misunderstandings in the presence of a stranger, and said that they were moving together to a newly rented house, known locally as a palazzo. Golenishchev liked this direct and simple attitude to her position. Observing Anna’s good-naturedly cheerful, energetic manner, and knowing both Alexei Alexandrovich and Vronsky, Golenishchev felt that he fully understood her. It seemed to him that he understood what she was quite unable to - namely, how it was that she, having caused the unhappiness of her husband, having abandoned him and their son, and having lost her own good name, could still feel energetically cheerful and happy.

‘It’s in the guidebook,’ Golenishchev said of the palazzo Vronsky had rented. ‘There’s a splendid Tintoretto¹⁹ there. From his last period.’

‘You know what? The weather’s splendid, let’s go there and have another look,’ said Vronsky, turning to Anna.

‘I’d be very glad to. I’ll go and put my hat on. You say it’s hot?’ she said, stopping at the door and looking questioningly at Vronsky, and again the bright colour came over her face.

Vronsky saw from her look that she did not know what relations he wanted to have with Golenishchev, and that she was afraid she might not be behaving as he would have wanted her to.

He gave her a long, tender look.

‘No, not very,’ he said.

And it seemed to her that she understood everything, above all that he was pleased with her; and, smiling at him, she went out with her quick step.

The friends looked at each other and there was perplexity in both their faces, as if Golenishchev, who obviously admired her, would have liked to say something about her but could not think what, while Vronsky wished and feared the same thing.

‘So that’s how it is,’ Vronsky began, in order to begin some sort of conversation. ‘So you’ve settled here? So you’re still doing the same thing?’ he went on, recalling that he had been told Golenishchev was writing something ...

‘Yes, I’m writing the second part of The Two Origins,’ said Golenishchev, flushing with pleasure at the question. ‘That is, to be precise, I’m not writing yet, but I’m preparing, collecting material. It will be much more extensive and cover almost all the questions. We in Russia don’t want to understand that we are heirs of Byzantium.’ He began a long, ardent explanation.²⁰

At first Vronsky felt awkward, not knowing the first part of The Two Origins, which the author spoke of as something well known. But then, as Golenishchev began to explain his thoughts and Vronsky was able to follow him, though he did not know The Two Origins, he listened not without interest, for Golenishchev spoke well. But Vronsky was surprised and disturbed by the irritated excitement with which Golenishchev spoke of the subject that occupied him. The longer he spoke, the more his eyes burned, the more he hastened to object to imaginary opponents, and the more anxious and offended the expression of his face became. Remembering Golenishchev as a thin, lively, good-natured and noble boy, always the first student in the corps, Vronsky simply could not understand the causes of this irritation and disapproved of it. He especially disliked the fact that Golenishchev, a man from a good circle, put himself on the same level with some common scribblers who irritated him, and was angry with them. Was it worth it? That Vronsky did not like, but, in spite of it, he felt that Golenishchev was unhappy and he was sorry for him. Unhappiness, insanity almost, showed on this lively and quite handsome face as he went on hurriedly and ardently voicing his thoughts, not even noticing that Anna had come out.

When Anna appeared in her hat and wrap and paused by him, her beautiful hand playing in quick movements with her parasol, Vronsky tore himself with a sense of relief from the intent gaze of Golenishchev’s complaining eyes, and with renewed love looked at his enchanting friend, full of life and joy. Golenishchev, recovering himself with difficulty, was at first dejected and glum, but Anna, kindly disposed towards everyone (as she was at that time), soon revived him with her simple and gay manner. After trying various topics of conversation, she brought him round to painting, about which he spoke very well, and listened to him attentively. They reached the rented house on foot and looked it over.