"And what did her husband do?" asked Sergey Ivanovitch.

"He has taken her daughter. Alexey was ready to agree to

anything at first. Now it worries him terribly that he should

have given his own child away to another man. But he can't take

back his word. Karenin came to the funeral. But we tried to

prevent his meeting Alexey. For him, for her husband, it was

easier, anyway. She had set him free. But my poor son was

utterly given up to her. He had thrown up everything, his

career, me, and even then she had no mercy on him, but of set

purpose she made his ruin complete. No, say what you will, her

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very death was the death of a vile woman, of no religious

feeling. God forgive me, but I can't help hating the memory of

her, when I look at my son's misery!"

"But how is he now?"

"It was a blessing from Providence for us--this Servian war. I'm

old, and I don't understand the rights and wrongs of it, but it's

come as a providential blessing to him. Of course for me, as his

mother, it's terrible; and what's worse, they say, _ce n'est pas

très bien vu a Pétersbourg_. But it can't be helped! It was the

one thing that could rouse him. Yashvin--a friend of his--he had

lost all he had at cards and he was going to Servia. He came to

see him and persuaded him to go. Now it's an interest for him.

Do please talk to him a little. I want to distract his mind.

He's so low-spirited. And as bad luck would have it, he has

toothache too. But he'll be delighted to see you. Please do

talk to him; he's walking up and down on that side."

Sergey Ivanovitch said he would be very glad to, and crossed over

to the other side of the station.




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