with the present state of things; in other words, with the fact that as a reward for all his sacrifices he was now deserted, disgraced, useful to no one, and a ridiculous laughing-stock to all.
The first two days after his wife's departure Alekseï Aleksandrovitch received petitioners and his chief secretary, attended committee-meetings, and ate his meals in the dining-room as usual. Without trying to explain to himself why he did this, he directed all the powers of his mind to one single aim—to seem calm and indifferent. As he answered the questions of the servants in regard to what should be done about Anna's rooms and her things, he made superhuman efforts to assume the manner of a man for whom the event that had occurred was not unexpected, and had nothing in it outside the range of ordinary, every-day events, and he accomplished his purpose; no one would have detected in him any signs of despair. But on the second day after her departure Korneï handed him a milliner's bill which Anna had neglected to pay, and told him that the manager of the business himself was waiting. Alekseï Aleksandrovitch had the man shown in.
"Excuse me, your excellency," said the manager, "for venturing to disturb you, but if you order us to apply to her ladyship personally, will you kindly give us her address?"
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch seemed to the manager to be cogitating; then suddenly turning round, he sat down at the table. Dropping his head into his hands, he sat there a long time in that position; he tried several times to speak, but still hesitated. Korneï, understanding his barin's feelings, asked the manager to come another time.
When he was left alone again, Alekseï Aleksandrovitch realized that he no longer had the power to keep up the rôle of firmness and serenity. He gave orders to send away the carriage which was waiting for him, and he declined to see callers and would accept no invitations out to dine. He felt that he could not endure the disdain and derision which he clearly read on the
