Anna Karenina (Penguin) - Leo Tolstoy [445]
‘But how is he now?’
‘This is God’s help to us, this Serbian war. I’m an old woman, I don’t understand anything about it, but it’s been sent him by God. Of course, as a mother I’m afraid, and above all they say ce n’est as très bien vu à Pétersbourg.dv But what can be done! It’s the only thing that could have lifted him up again. Yashvin - his friend - lost everything at cards and decided to go to Serbia. He came to see him and talked him into it. Now he’s taken up with it. Talk to him, please, I want him to be distracted. He’s so sad. And, as ill luck would have it, he’s got a toothache. He’ll be very glad to see you. Please talk to him, he’s walking on that side.’
Sergei Ivanovich said he would be very glad to, and went over to the other side of the train.
V
In the slanted evening shadow of the sacks piled on the platform, Vronsky, in his long coat, his hat pulled down over his eyes, his hands in his pockets, was pacing like a caged animal, turning abruptly every twenty steps. As Sergei Ivanovich approached, it seemed to him that Vronsky saw him but pretended to be unseeing. That made no difference to Sergei Ivanovich. He was above keeping any personal accounts with Vronsky.
In Sergei Ivanovich’s eyes, Vronsky was at that moment an important actor in a great cause, and he considered it his duty to encourage him and show his approval. He went up to him.
Vronsky stopped, peered, recognized him and, taking a few steps towards him, gave him a very firm handshake.
‘Perhaps you didn’t wish to see me,’ said Sergei Ivanovich, ‘but may I not be of some use to you?’
‘There is no one it would be less unpleasant for me to see than you,’ said Vronsky. ‘Forgive me. Nothing in life is pleasant for me.’
‘I understand, and I wanted to offer you my services,’ said Sergei Ivanovich, peering into Vronsky’s obviously suffering face. ‘Might you need a letter to Ristich, or to Milan?’5
‘Oh, no!’ said Vronsky, as though he had difficulty understanding. ‘If you don’t mind, let’s walk a bit more. It’s so stuffy on the train. A letter? No, thank you. One needs no recommendations in order to die. Unless it’s to the Turks ...’ he said, smiling with his lips only. His eyes kept their expression of angry suffering.
‘Yes, but perhaps it will be easier for you to enter into relations, which are necessary in any case, with someone who has been prepared. However, as you wish. I was very glad to hear of your decision. There are so many attacks on the volunteers that a man like you raises them in public opinion.’
‘As a man,’ said Vronsky, ‘I’m good in that life has no value for me. And I have enough physical energy to hack my way into a square and either crush it or go down - that I know. I’m glad there’s something for which I can give my life, which is not so much needless as hateful to me. It will be useful to somebody.’ And he made an impatient movement with his jaw, caused by an incessant, gnawing toothache, which even prevented him from speaking with the expression he would have liked.
‘You’ll come back to life, I predict it,’ said Sergei Ivanovich, feeling moved. ‘Delivering one’s brothers from the yoke is a goal worthy of both death and life. May God grant you outward success - and inner peace,’ he added and held out his hand.
Vronsky firmly pressed Sergei Ivanovich’s hand.
‘Yes, as a tool I may prove good for something. But as a human being I am a wreck,’ he said measuredly.
The nagging pain in the strong tooth, filling his mouth with saliva, prevented him from speaking. He fell silent, peering into the wheels of a tender rolling slowly and smoothly towards