Chapter 23

           Vronsky’swoundhadbeenadangerousone,thoughitdidnottouchtheheart,andforseveraldayshehadlainbetweenlifeanddeath.Thefirsttimehewasabletospeak,Varya,hisbrother’swife,wasaloneintheroom.

           “Varya,”hesaid,lookingsternlyather,“Ishotmyselfbyaccident.Andpleaseneverspeakofit,andtelleveryoneso.Orelseit’stooridiculous.”

           Withoutansweringhiswords,Varyabentoverhim,andwithadelightedsmilegazedintohisface.Hiseyeswereclear,notfeverish;buttheirexpressionwasstern.

           “ThankGod!”shesaid.“You’renotinpain?”

           “Alittlehere.”Hepointedtohisbreast.

           “Thenletmechangeyourbandages.”

           Insilence,stiffeninghisbroadjaws,helookedatherwhileshebandagedhimup.Whenshehadfinishedhesaid:

           “I’mnotdelirious.Pleasemanagethattheremaybenotalkofmyhavingshotmyselfonpurpose.”

           “Noonedoessayso.OnlyIhopeyouwon’tshootyourselfbyaccidentanymore,”shesaid,withaquestioningsmile.

           “OfcourseIwon’t,butitwouldhavebeenbetter....”

           Andhesmiledgloomily.

           Inspiteofthesewordsandthissmile,whichsofrightenedVarya,whentheinflammationwasoverandhebegantorecover,hefeltthathewascompletelyfreefromonepartofhismisery.Byhisactionhehad,asitwere,washedawaytheshameandhumiliationhehadfeltbefore.HecouldnowthinkcalmlyofAlexeyAlexandrovitch.Herecognizedallhismagnanimity,buthedidnotnowfeelhimselfhumiliatedbyit.Besides,hegotbackagainintothebeatentrackofhislife.