`What are we all miserable for, when everything might be so well?'

`Except for him. Don't I know him - the falsity in which he's utterly steeped?... Could one, with any feeling, live as he is living with me? He understands nothing, and feels nothing. Could a man of any feeling live in the same house with his unfaithful wife? Could he talk to her, call her ``my dear'?'

And again she could not help mimicking him: `Anna, ma chère; Anna, dear!'

`He's not a man, not a human being - he's a mannikin! No one knows him; but I know him. Oh, if I'd been in his place, I'd long ago have killed, have torn to pieces a wife like me. I wouldn't have said, ``Anna, ma chère'! He's not a man, he's a ministerial machine. He doesn't understand that I'm your wife, that he's outside, that he's superfluous.... Don't let's talk of him!...'

`You're unfair, very unfair, dearest,' said Vronsky, trying to soothe her. `But never mind, don't let's talk of him. Tell me what you've been doing. What is the matter? Why are you unwell, and what did the doctor say?'

She looked at him with mocking amusement. Evidently she had hit on other absurd and grotesque aspects in her husband and was awaiting the moment to give expression to them.

But he went on:

`I imagine that it's not illness, but your condition. When will it be?'

The ironical light died away in her eyes, but a different smile, a consciousness of something, he did not know what, and of quiet melancholy, came over her face.

`Soon, soon. You say that our position is miserable, that we must put an end to it. If you knew how terrible it is to me - what I would give to be able to love you freely and unafraid! I should not torture myself and torture you with my jealousy.... And it will come soon, but not as we expect.'

And at the thought of how it would come, she seemed so pitiable to herself that tears came into her eyes, and she could not go on. She laid on his sleeve her hand, shining with its whiteness and its rings in the lamplight.

`It won't come as we suppose. I didn't mean to say this to you, but you've made me. Soon, soon, all will be over, and we shall all, all be at peace, and suffer no more.'

`I don't understand,' he said, understanding her.

`You asked when? Soon. And I shan't live through it. Don't interrupt me!' and she made haste to speak. `I know it; I know for certain. I shall die; and I'm very glad I shall die, and release myself and you.'

Tears dropped from her eyes; he bent down over her hand and began kissing it, trying to hide his emotion, which, he knew, had no sort of grounds, though he could not control it.

`Yes, it's better so,' she said, tightly gripping his hand. `That's the only way - the only way left us.'

He had recovered himself, and lifted his head.

`How absurd! What absurd nonsense you are talking!'

`No, it's the truth.'

`What - what's the truth?'

`That I shall die. I have had a dream.'


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