Emma Watson Pussy
Books:
Anna Karenina
War And Peace
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he saw he had guessed right, and roughly pushing away her
hand, he quickly snatched a portfolio in which he knew she used
to put her most important papers. She tried to pull the
portfolio away, but he pushed her back.
"Sit down! I have to speak to you," he said, putting the
portfolio under his arm, and squeezing it so tightly with his
elbow that his shoulder stood up. Amazed and intimidated, she
gazed at him in silence.
"I told you that I would not allow you to receive your lover in
this house."
"I had to see him to..."
She stopped, not finding a reason.
"I do not enter into the details of why a woman wants to see her
lover."
"I meant, I only..." she said, flushing hotly. This coarseness
of his angered her, and gave her courage. "Surely you must feel
how easy it is for you to insult me?" she said.
"An honest man and an honest woman may be insulted, but to tell a
thief hes a thief is simply _la constatation dun fait_."
"This cruelty is something new I did not know in you."
"You call it cruelty for a husband to give his wife liberty,
giving her the honorable protection of his name, simply on the
condition of observing the proprieties: is that cruelty?"
"Its worse than cruel--its base, if you want to know!" Anna
cried, in a rush of hatred, and getting up, she was going away.
"No!" he shrieked, in his shrill voice, which pitched a note
higher than usual even, and his big hands clutching her by the
arm so violently that red marks were left from the bracelet he
was squeezing, he forcibly sat her down in her place.
"Base! If you care to use that word, what is base is to forsake
husband and child for a lover, while you eat your husbands
bread!"
She bowed her head. She did not say what she had said the
evening before to her lover, that _he_ was her husband, and her
husband was superfluous; she did not even think that. She felt
all the justice of his words, and only said softly:
"You cannot describe my position as worse than I feel it to be
myself; but what are you saying all this for?"
"What am I saying it for? what for?" he went on, as angrily.
"That you may know that since you have not carried out my wishes
in regard to observing outward decorum, I will take measures to
put an end to this state of things."
"Soon, very soon, it will end, anyway," she said; and again, at
the thought of death near at hand and now desired, tears came
into her eyes.
"It will end sooner than you and your lover have planned! If you
must have the satisfaction of animal passion..."
"Alexey Alexandrovitch! I wont say its not generous, but its
not like a gentleman to strike anyone whos down."
"Yes, you only think of yourself! But the sufferings of a man
who was your husband have no interest for you. You dont care
that his whole life is ruined, that he is thuff...thuff..."
Alexey Alexandrovitch was speaking so quickly that he stammered,
and was utterly unable to articulate the word "suffering." In
the end he pronounced it "thuffering." She wanted to laugh, and
was immediately ashamed that anything could amuse her at such a
moment. And for the first time, for an instant, she felt for
him, put herself in his place, and was sorry for him. But what
could she say or do? Her head sank, and she sat silent. He too
was silent for some time, and then began speaking in a frigid,
less shrill voice, emphasizing random words that had no
special significance.
"I came to tell you..." he said.
She glanced at him. "No, it was my fancy," she thought,
recalling the expression of his face when he stumbled over the
word "suffering." "No; can a man with those dull eyes, with that
self-satisfied complacency, feel anything?"
"I cannot change anything," she whispered.
"I have come to tell you that I am going tomorrow to Moscow, and
shall not return again to this house, and you will receive notice
of what I decide through the lawyer into whose hands I shall
intrust the task of getting a divorce. My son is going to my
sisters," said Alexey Alexandrovitch, with an effort recalling
what he had meant to say about his son.
"You
Anna Karenina page 210 Anna Karenina page 212
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