`I should always feel I had wronged these unhappy children,' she said. `If there are none, at any rate they are not unhappy; while if they are unhappy, I alone should be to blame for it.'
These were the very arguments Darya Alexandrovna had used in her own reflections; but she heard them now without understanding them. `How can one wrong creatures that don't exist?' she thought. And all at once the idea struck her. Could it possibly, under any circumstances, have been better for her favorite Grisha if he had never existed? And this seemed to her so wild, so strange, that she shook her head to drive away this tangle of whirling, mad ideas.
`No, I don't know; it's not right,' was all she said, with an expression of disgust on her face.
`Yes, but you mustn't forget what you are and what I am.... And besides that,' added Anna, in spite of the wealth of her arguments and the poverty of Dolly's objections, seeming still to admit that it was not right, `don't forget the chief point, that I am not now in the same position as you. For you the question is: Do you desire not to have any more children?
While for me it is: Do I desire to have them? And that's a great difference.
You must see that I can't desire them in my position.'
Darya Alexandrovna made no reply. She suddenly felt that she had got away from Anna so far, that there lay between them a barrier of questions on which they could never agree, and about which it was better not to speak.
[Next Chapter] [Table of Contents]TOLSTOY: Anna Karenina Part 6, Chapter 24[Previous Chapter] [Table of Contents] Chapter 24 `Then there is all the more reason for you to legalize your position, if possible,' said Dolly.
`Yes, if possible,' said Anna, speaking all at once in an utterly different tone, subdued and mournful.
`Surely you don't mean a divorce is impossible? I was told your husband had consented to it.'
`Dolly, I don't want to talk about that.'
`Oh, we won't then,' Darya Alexandrovna hastened to say, noticing the expression of suffering on Anna's face. `All I see is that you take too gloomy a view of things.'
`I? Not at all! I'm very satisfied and happy. You see, je fais passions . Veslovsky...'
`Yes, to tell the truth, I don't like Veslovsky's tone,' said Darya Alexandrovna, anxious to change the subject.
`Oh, that's nonsense! It amuses Alexei, and that's all; but he's a boy, and quite under control. You know, I turn him as I please. It's just as it might be with your Grisha.... Dolly!' she suddenly changed the subject. `You say I take too gloomy a view of things. You can't understand.
It's too awful! I try not to take any view of it at all.'
`But I think you ought to. You ought to do all you can.'
`But what can I do? Nothing. You tell me to marry Alexei, and say I don't think about it. I don't think about it!' she repeated, and a flush rose into her face. She got up, straightening her chest, and sighed heavily. With her light step she began pacing up and down the room, stopping now and then. `I don't think of it? Not a day, not an hour passes that I don't think of it, and blame myself for what I think... because thinking of that may drive me mad. Drive me mad!' she repeated. `When I think of it, I can't sleep without morphine. But never mind. Let us talk quietly.
They tell me - divorce. In the first place, he won't give me a divorce.
He's under the influence of Countess Lidia Ivanovna now.'
Darya Alexandrovna, sitting erect on a chair, turned her head following Anna with a face of sympathetic suffering.
`You ought to make the attempt,' she said softly.
`Suppose I make the attempt. What does it mean?' she said, evidently giving utterance to a thought, a thousand times thought over and learned by heart. `It means that I, hating him, but still recognizing that I have wronged him - and I consider him magnanimous - that I humiliate myself to write to him.... Well, suppose I make the effort; I do it. Either Ireceive a humiliating refusal, or consent. Well, I have received his consent, say...' Anna was at that moment at the farthest end of the room, and she stopped there, doing something to the curtain at the window. `I receive his consent, but my... my son? They won't give him up to me. He will grow up despising me, with his father, whom I've abandoned. Do you see, I love equally, I think, but both more than myself, two beings - Seriozha and Alexei.'
She came out into the middle of the room and stood facing Dolly, with her arms pressed tightly across her chest. In her white dressing gown her figure seemed more than usually grand and broad. She bent her head, and with shining, wet eyes looked from under her brows at Dolly, a thin little pitiful figure in her patched dressing jacket and nightcap, shaking all over with emotion.
`It is only those two beings whom I love, and one excludes the other. I can't have them together, and that's the only thing I want. And since I can't have that, I don't care about the rest. I don't care about anything - anything. And it will end one way or another, and so I can't, I don't like to talk of it. So don't blame me, don't judge me for anything.
You can't with your pure heart understand all that I'm suffering.'
She went up, sat down beside Dolly, and, with a guilty look, peeped into her face and took her hand.
`What are you thinking? What are you thinking about me? Don't despise me. I don't deserve contempt. I'm simply unhappy. If anyone is unhappy, I am,' she uttered, and turning away, she burst into tears.
Left alone, Dolly said her prayers and went to bed. She had felt for Anna with all her heart while she was speaking to her, but now she could not force herself to think of her. The memories of home and of her children rose up in her imagination with a peculiar charm quite new to her, with a sort of new brilliance. That world of her own seemed to her now so sweet and precious that she would not on any account spend an extra day outside it, and she made up her mind that she would certainly go back the next day.