It was even unpleasant to think that Anna would soon be in to see her. She would have preferred to be alone with her thoughts.
CHAPTER XXIII
Dolly was just feeling ready to go to bed when Anna came in, in her night costume.
All that day Anna had more than once been on the point of speaking intimately, but each time, after saying a few words, she had put it off, saying, "By and by; when we are alone, we will talk. I must tell you everything."
Now they were alone and Anna did not know what to talk about. She sat by the window looking at Dolly, and casting over in her mind that inexhaustible store of topics which she wished to talk about, and yet she could not find one to begin with. It seemed to her as if she had already told all that was in her heart to tell.
"Well, what about Kitty?" asked Anna, sighing deeply, and looking guiltily at Dolly. "Tell me the truth, Dolly; is she angry with me?"
"Angry? No," answered Dolly, smiling.
"Doesn't she hate .... does n't she despise me?"
"Oh, no; but you know this is one of the things people don't forgive."
"Yes, yes," said Anna, turning away and looking out of the open window. "But I was not to blame! And who is to blame? and what is there blameworthy about it? Could it have been otherwise? Now tell me? How do you think? Could you have helped being Stiva's wife?"
"Truly, I don't know; but you must tell me ...."
"Yes, yes! But finish telling me about Kitty. Is she happy? They say her husband is an excellent man."
"That's too little to say, that he's excellent; I don't know a better man."
