"Yes, .... Kitty," said Dolly, confused; "she is in the nursery. You know she has been very ill."
"I heard so. May I read the letter?"
"Certainly; I'll go and get it. Alekseï Aleksandrovitch does not refuse; on the contrary, Stiva is quite hopeful," said Dolly, stopping at the door.
"I neither hope nor want anything," said Anna.
"Does Kitty think it humiliating to meet me?" thought Anna, when she was left alone. "Perhaps she is right; but she who once loved Vronsky has no right to thrust it in my face, even if she is right. I know that a virtuous woman cannot receive me in my present position. I have given up everything for him, and this is my reward! Ah, how I hate him! Why did I come here? I am more wretched here than at home."
She heard the voices of the two sisters in an adjoining room.
"And what am I to say to Dolly? Delight Kitty with the spectacle of my misery? Submit to her condescension? Never! Even Dolly would n't understand. I will not say anything to her. All I should want to see Kitty for would be to show her that I am indifferent,—that I scorn every one and everything."
Dolly came in with the letter; Anna silently looked it through, and returned it.
"I knew all that," said she; "but it doesn't interest me at all."
"Now, why not? I have good hopes," said Dolly, looking critically at Anna. She had never seen her in such a strange state of irritation. "When do you go away?"
Anna half closed her eyes, and looked before her without answering.
"Is Kitty afraid of me?" she asked, after a moment, glancing toward the door, with heightened color.
"Akh, what nonsense! But she is nursing the baby .... it does not go very well yet I have been giving her some advice.... she will be delighted, and is coming directly," answered Dolly, awkwardly, not knowing how to tell a fib. "Oh, there she is now."
