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When she saw once more those composed gestures, heard that

shrill, childish, and sarcastic voice, her aversion for him

extinguished her pity for him, and she felt only afraid, but at

all costs she wanted to make clear her position.

"I cannot be your wife while I...." she began.

He laughed a cold and malignant laugh.

"The manner of life you have chosen is reflected, I suppose, in

your ideas. I have too much respect or contempt, or both ... I

respect your past and despise your present ... that I was far

from the interpretation you put on my words."

Anna sighed and bowed her head.

"Though indeed I fail to comprehend how, with the independence

you show," he went on, getting hot, "-announcing your infidelity

to your husband and seeing nothing reprehensible in it,

apparently-you can see anything reprehensible in performing a

wife's duties in relation to your husband."

"Alexey Alexandrovitch! What is it you want of me?"