she was a bad woman. Think! What a desperate passion she was in! She did it to make an extraordinary sensation, and she succeeded! She has done irreparable injury to the lives of two men of rare merit,—her husband and my son,—and ruined herself."
"How about her husband?"
"He has taken her little girl. At first Alyosha consented to everything; now he is awfully sorry, having given up his daughter to a stranger, but he could not take back his word. Karenin went to the funeral; we succeeded in preventing a meeting between him and Alyosha. For him,—that is, her husband,—this death is a deliverance; but my poor son gave up everything for her, sacrificed everything,—me, his position, his career,—and she was not contented with that, but wanted to ruin him besides. No! whatever you may say, her death is the death of a bad woman, a woman without religion. May God forgive me! but when I think of the harm she has done my son, I cannot help cursing her memory."
"How is he now?"
"This Serbian war is our salvation. I am old, and don't understand much about it; but God sent it for him. Of course, to me, as his mother, it is painful; and besides, they say ce n'est pas très bien vu à Pétersburg, but what can be done about it? This is the only thing that could save him. Yashvin, his friend, gambled away all he had, and enlisted. He came to Alyosha, and persuaded him to go to Serbia with him. Now this is occupying him. Do talk with him, I beg of you, he is so sad. And then, besides his other troubles, he has a toothache. But he will be glad to see you. Please talk with him. He is walking up and down on the other side of the track."
Sergyeï Ivanovitch said that he would be very glad to talk with the count, and went over to the side where Vronsky was.
