Анна Кареніна

Chapter 6

           

           “Thathasbeensaidlongago,”theambassador’swifeinterruptedhim,laughing.

           Theconversationbeganamiably,butjustbecauseitwastooamiable,itcametoastopagain.Theyhadtohaverecoursetothesure,never-failingtopicgossip.

           “Don’tyouthinkthere’ssomethingLouisQuinzeaboutTushkevitch?”hesaid,glancingtowardsahandsome,fair-hairedyoungman,standingatthetable.

           “Oh,yes!He’sinthesamestyleasthedrawing-roomandthat’swhyitishe’ssooftenhere.”

           Thisconversationwasmaintained,sinceitrestedonallusionstowhatcouldnotbetalkedofinthatroomthatistosay,oftherelationsofTushkevitchwiththeirhostess.

           Roundthesamovarandthehostesstheconversationhadbeenmeanwhilevacillatinginjustthesamewaybetweenthreeinevitabletopics:thelatestpieceofpublicnews,thetheater,andscandal.It,too,camefinallytorestonthelasttopic,thatis,ill-naturedgossip.

           “HaveyouheardtheMaltishtchevawomanthemother,notthedaughterhasorderedacostumeindiablerosecolor?”

           “Nonsense!No,that’stoolovely!”

           “Iwonderthatwithhersenseforshe’snotafool,youknowthatshedoesn’tseehowfunnysheis.”

           EveryonehadsomethingtosayincensureorridiculeofthelucklessMadameMaltishtcheva,andtheconversationcrackledmerrily,likeaburningfaggot-stack.

           ThehusbandofPrincessBetsy,agood-naturedfatman,anardentcollectorofengravings,hearingthathiswifehadvisitors,cameintothedrawing-roombeforegoingtohisclub.

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