Anna Karenina - Part 6 - Page 9/121

Kitty was particularly glad of a chance of being alone with her

husband, for she had noticed the shade of mortification that

had passed over his face--always so quick to reflect every

feeling--at the moment when he had come onto the terrace and

asked what they were talking of, and had got no answer.

When they had set off on foot ahead of the others, and had come

out of sight of the house onto the beaten dusty road, marked with

rusty wheels and sprinkled with grains of corn, she clung faster

to his arm and pressed it closer to her. He had quite forgotten

the momentary unpleasant impression, and alone with her he felt,

now that the thought of her approaching motherhood was never for

a moment absent from his mind, a new and delicious bliss, quite

pure from all alloy of sense, in the being near to the woman he

loved. There was no need of speech, yet he longed to hear the

sound of her voice, which like her eyes had changed since she had

been with child. In her voice, as in her eyes, there was that

softness and gravity which is found in people continually

concentrated on some cherished pursuit.

"So you're not tired? Lean more on me," said he.

"No, I'm so glad of a chance of being alone with you, and I must

own, though I'm happy with them, I do regret our winter evenings

alone."

"That was good, but this is even better. Both are better," he

said, squeezing her hand.

"Do you know what we were talking about when you came in?"

"About jam?"

"Oh, yes, about jam too; but afterwards, about how men make

offers."

"Ah!" said Levin, listening more to the sound of her voice than

to the words she was saying, and all the while paying attention

to the road, which passed now through the forest, and avoiding

places where she might make a false step.

"And about Sergey Ivanovitch and Varenka. You've noticed?...

I'm very anxious for it," she went on. "What do you think about

it?" And she peeped into his face.

"I don't know what to think," Levin answered, smiling. "Sergey

seems very strange to me in that way. I told you, you know..."

"Yes, that he was in love with that girl who died...."

"That was when I was a child; I know about it from hearsay and

tradition. I remember him then. He was wonderfully sweet. But

I've watched him since with women; he is friendly, some of them

he likes, but one feels that to him they're simply people, not

women."