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- Лев Толстой
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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 1/828
Anna Karenina
Happy
families
are
all
alike
;
every
unhappy
family
is
unhappy
in
its
own
way
.
Everything
was
in
confusion
in
the
Oblonskys
’
house
.
The
wife
had
discovered
that
the
husband
was
carrying
on
an
intrigue
with
a
French
girl
,
who
had
been
a
governess
in
their
family
,
and
she
had
announced
to
her
husband
that
she
could
not
go
on
living
in
the
same
house
with
him
.
This
position
of
affairs
had
now
lasted
three
days
,
and
not
only
the
husband
and
wife
themselves
,
but
all
the
members
of
their
family
and
household
,
were
painfully
conscious
of
it
.
Every
person
in
the
house
felt
that
there
was
no
sense
in
their
living
together
,
and
that
the
stray
people
brought
together
by
chance
in
any
inn
had
more
in
common
with
one
another
than
they
,
the
members
of
the
family
and
household
of
the
Oblonskys
.
The
wife
did
not
leave
her
own
room
,
the
husband
had
not
been
at
home
for
three
days
.
The
children
ran
wild
all
over
the
house
;
the
English
governess
quarreled
with
the
housekeeper
,
and
wrote
to
a
friend
asking
her
to
look
out
for
a
new
situation
for
her
;
the
man
-
cook
had
walked
off
the
day
before
just
at
dinner
time
;
the
kitchen
-
maid
,
and
the
coachman
had
given
warning
.
Three
days
after
the
quarrel
,
Prince
Stepan
Arkadyevitch
Oblonsky
—
Stiva
,
as
he
was
called
in
the
fashionable
world
—
woke
up
at
his
usual
hour
,
that
is
,
at
eight
o
’
clock
in
the
morning
,
not
in
his
wife
’
s
bedroom
,
but
on
the
leather
-
covered
sofa
in
his
study
.
He
turned
over
his
stout
,
well
-
cared
-
for
person
on
the
springy
sofa
,
as
though
he
would
sink
into
a
long
sleep
again
;
he
vigorously
embraced
the
pillow
on
the
other
side
and
buried
his
face
in
it
;
but
all
at
once
he
jumped
up
,
sat
up
on
the
sofa
,
and
opened
his
eyes
.
“
Yes
,
yes
,
how
was
it
now
?
”
he
thought
,
going
over
his
dream
.
“
Now
,
how
was
it
?
To
be
sure
!
Alabin
was
giving
a
dinner
at
Darmstadt
;
no
,
not
Darmstadt
,
but
something
American
.
Yes
,
but
then
,
Darmstadt
was
in
America
.
Yes
,
Alabin
was
giving
a
dinner
on
glass
tables
,
and
the
tables
sang
,
Il
mio
tesoro
—
not
Il
mio
tesoro
though
,
but
something
better
,
and
there
were
some
sort
of
little
decanters
on
the
table
,
and
they
were
women
,
too
,
”
he
remembered
.
Stepan
Arkadyevitch
’
s
eyes
twinkled
gaily
,
and
he
pondered
with
a
smile
.
“
Yes
,
it
was
nice
,
very
nice
.
There
was
a
great
deal
more
that
was
delightful
,
only
there
’
s
no
putting
it
into
words
,
or
even
expressing
it
in
one
’
s
thoughts
awake
.
”
And
noticing
a
gleam
of
light
peeping
in
beside
one
of
the
serge
curtains
,
he
cheerfully
dropped
his
feet
over
the
edge
of
the
sofa
,
and
felt
about
with
them
for
his
slippers
,
a
present
on
his
last
birthday
,
worked
for
him
by
his
wife
on
gold
-
colored
morocco
.
And
,
as
he
had
done
every
day
for
the
last
nine
years
,
he
stretched
out
his
hand
,
without
getting
up
,
towards
the
place
where
his
dressing
-
gown
always
hung
in
his
bedroom
.
And
thereupon
he
suddenly
remembered
that
he
was
not
sleeping
in
his
wife
’
s
room
,
but
in
his
study
,
and
why
:
the
smile
vanished
from
his
face
,
he
knitted
his
brows
.
“
Ah
,
ah
,
ah
!
Oo
!
.
.
.
”
he
muttered
,
recalling
everything
that
had
happened
.
And
again
every
detail
of
his
quarrel
with
his
wife
was
present
to
his
imagination
,
all
the
hopelessness
of
his
position
,
and
worst
of
all
,
his
own
fault
.
“
Yes
,
she
won
’
t
forgive
me
,
and
she
can
’
t
forgive
me
.
And
the
most
awful
thing
about
it
is
that
it
’
s
all
my
fault
—
all
my
fault
,
though
I
’
m
not
to
blame
.
That
’
s
the
point
of
the
whole
situation
,
”
he
reflected
.
“
Oh
,
oh
,
oh
!
”
he
kept
repeating
in
despair
,
as
he
remembered
the
acutely
painful
sensations
caused
him
by
this
quarrel
.
Most
unpleasant
of
all
was
the
first
minute
when
,
on
coming
,
happy
and
good
-
humored
,
from
the
theater
,
with
a
huge
pear
in
his
hand
for
his
wife
,
he
had
not
found
his
wife
in
the
drawing
-
room
,
to
his
surprise
had
not
found
her
in
the
study
either
,
and
saw
her
at
last
in
her
bedroom
with
the
unlucky
letter
that
revealed
everything
in
her
hand
.
