Anna Karenina - Part 1 - Page 85/119

No one but she herself understood her position; no one knew that

she had just refused the man whom perhaps she loved, and refused

him because she had put her faith in another.

Countess Nordston found Korsunsky, with whom she was to dance the

mazurka, and told him to ask Kitty.

Kitty danced in the first couple, and luckily for her she had not

to talk, because Korsunsky was all the time running about

directing the figure. Vronsky and Anna sat almost opposite her.

She saw them with her long-sighted eyes, and saw them, too, close

by, when they met in the figures, and the more she saw of them

the more convinced was she that her unhappiness was complete.

She saw that they felt themselves alone in that crowded room.

And on Vronsky's face, always so firm and independent, she saw

that look that had struck her, of bewilderment and humble

submissiveness, like the expression of an intelligent dog when it

has done wrong.

Anna smiled, and her smile was reflected by him. She grew

thoughtful, and he became serious. Some supernatural force drew

Kitty's eyes to Anna's face. She was fascinating in her simple

black dress, fascinating were her round arms with their

bracelets, fascinating was her firm neck with its thread of

pearls, fascinating the straying curls of her loose hair,

fascinating the graceful, light movements of her little feet and

hands, fascinating was that lovely face in its eagerness, but

there was something terrible and cruel in her fascination.

Kitty admired her more than ever, and more and more acute was her

suffering. Kitty felt overwhelmed, and her face showed it. When

Vronsky saw her, coming across her in the mazurka, he did not at

once recognize her, she was so changed.

"Delightful ball!" he said to her, for the sake of saying

something.

"Yes," she answered.

In the middle of the mazurka, repeating a complicated figure,

newly invented by Korsunsky, Anna came forward into the center of

the circle, chose two gentlemen, and summoned a lady and Kitty.

Kitty gazed at her in dismay as she went up. Anna looked at her

with drooping eyelids, and smiled, pressing her hand. But,

noticing that Kitty only responded to her smile by a look of

despair and amazement, she turned away from her, and began gaily

talking to the other lady.

"Yes, there is something uncanny, devilish and fascinating in

her," Kitty said to herself.

Anna did not mean to stay to supper, but the master of the house

began to press her to do so.

"Nonsense, Anna Arkadyevna," said Korsunsky, drawing her bare arm

under the sleeve of his dress coat, "I've such an idea for a

_cotillion! Un bijou!_"