Anna Karenina (Penguin) - Leo Tolstoy [80]
‘None,’ said Vronsky, laughing and showing a solid row of teeth. ‘Excuse me,’ he added, taking the opera-glasses from her hand and beginning to scan the facing row of boxes over her bared shoulder. ‘I’m afraid I’m becoming ridiculous.’
He knew very well that in the eyes of Betsy and all society people he ran no risk of being ridiculous. He knew very well that for those people the role of the unhappy lover of a young girl, or of a free woman generally, might be ridiculous; but the role of a man who attached himself to a married woman and devoted his life to involving her in adultery at all costs, had something beautiful and grand about it and could never be ridiculous, and therefore, with a proud and gay smile playing under his moustache, he lowered the opera-glasses and looked at his cousin.
‘And why didn’t you come to dinner?’ she added, looking at him with admiration.
‘That I must tell you about. I was busy, and with what? I’ll lay you a hundred, a thousand to one ... you’ll never guess. I was trying to make peace between a husband and his wife’s offender. Yes, really!’
‘And what, did you succeed?’
‘Nearly.’
‘You must tell me about it,’ she said, getting up. ‘Come during the next interval.’
‘Impossible. I’m going to the French Theatre.’
‘From Nilsson?’ said Betsy in horror, though she would never have been able to tell Nilsson from any chorus girl.
‘No help for it. I have an appointment there, all to do with this peacemaking business.’
‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be saved,’3 said Betsy, remembering hearing something of the sort from someone. ‘Sit down, then, and tell me about it.’
And she sat down again.
V
‘This is a bit indiscreet, but so charming that I want terribly to tell it,’ said Vronsky, looking at her with laughing eyes. ‘I won’t mention names.’
‘But I’ll guess them - so much the better.’
‘Listen, then. Two gay young men are out driving ...’4
‘Officers from your regiment, naturally.’
‘I’m not saying officers, simply two young men after lunch ...’
‘Translate: slightly drunk.’
‘Maybe so. They’re going to their friend’s for dinner, in the gayest spirits. They see a pretty young woman overtake them in a cab, look back and, so at least it seems to them, nod to them and laugh. Naturally, they go after her. They drive at full speed. To their surprise, the beauty stops at the entrance to the same house they’re going to. The beauty runs upstairs. They see only red lips under a short veil and beautiful little feet.’
‘You’re telling it with such feeling that I suppose you were one of the two yourself.’
‘And what did you say to me just now? Well, the young men go to their friend, he’s having a farewell dinner. Here they do indeed drink, maybe too much, as is usual at farewell dinners. And over dinner they ask who lives upstairs in that house. Nobody knows, and only the host’s footman, to their question whether any mamzelles live upstairs, answers that there are lots of them there. After dinner the young men go to the host’s study and write a letter to the unknown woman. They write a passionate letter, a declaration, and take the letter upstairs themselves, to explain in case the letter isn’t quite clear.’
‘Why do you tell me such vile things? Well?’
‘They ring. A maid comes out. They hand her the letter and assure the maid that they’re both so much in love that they’re going to die right there on the doorstep. The maid, quite perplexed, conveys the message. Suddenly there appears a gentleman with sausage-shaped side-whiskers, red as a lobster, who announces to them that no one lives in the house except his wife, and throws them both out.’
‘And how do you know his side-whiskers are sausage-shaped, as you say?’
‘Just listen. Today I went to try and make peace between them.’
‘Well, and what then?’
‘Here’s the most interesting part. It turned out that they’re a happy titular councillor and councilloress.5