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"Well, and for some reason Anna Pavlovna told him that he didn't

want to go because you are here. Of course, that was nonsense;

but there was a dispute over it-over you. You know how irritable

these sick people are."

Kitty, scowling more than ever, kept silent, and Varenka went on

speaking alone, trying to soften or soothe her, and seeing a

storm coming-she did not know whether of tears or of words.

"So you'd better not go.... You understand; you won't be

offended?..."

"And it serves me right! And it serves me right!" Kitty cried

quickly, snatching the parasol out of Varenka's hand, and looking

past her friend's face.

Varenka felt inclined to smile, looking at her childish fury, but

she was afraid of wounding her.

"How does it serve you right? I don't understand," she said.